


Tales of a Young Alistair

by MistressofFluff (Eravalefantasy)



Series: Alistair: His life, his love, his future [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age Origins
Genre: Fluffistair, Gen, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2018-04-23 06:19:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 22,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4866257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eravalefantasy/pseuds/MistressofFluff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of stories of Alistair as an infant and young child. All of these stories are light hearted views of Alistair. Only bits of canon float in now and again, but these are meant as a tale not a reflection of canon Alistair's life.  Already posted under their own titles, these are now combined in one post.<br/>All Fluffistair, all fluff bombs and pack your toothbrush for the tooth rotting fluff.</p><p>10/9/15 My Father's Eyes. Baby Alistair  added</p><p>10/13/15 He's My Brother </p><p>10/17/15 Desperately Seeking Alistair </p><p>10/19/15 The Stable Boy and the Amulet- Art added 12/18/2015!</p><p>11/1/15 First Lesson</p><p>11/29/15 Alistair and the Very Serious Question</p><p>December: Alistair Telephone Game Fic: Redcliffe Castle Surprise: A Toddler's Tale</p><p>12/24/15 Alistair's New Suit</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Littlest Warden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fic prompt of Baby Alistair at Weisshaupt

“This is not a nursery, Duncan.” The First Warden was not happy about the child in Weisshaupt.

 “I know that, but these are special circumstances. His presence will not be disrupting, I assure you.” Duncan had made a promise to watch over the child. Alistair was already two months old, in one more they would leave for Ferelden.

 She frowned. “It’s not a mabari pup either.”

 “I can assure you, no one will know he is still here.”  _Except for the fact that everyone already knows about this._  Duncan sighed.  _Maker watch over us._

He left the First Warden’s office dreading the fact he knew he would now be held accountable to two women regarding the baby.  _This won’t be that hard. We leave for Ferelden as soon as mother and child are ready and able to leave._

 As Duncan neared the room where Alistair and Fiona slept, he could hear laughter and loud conversation.

 "Ah Duncan, Athewyn here was just measuring the little one.” Warden Yvar Nulfsson, gestured towards the woman standing over Alistair.

 “Measuring him? To what end?” Duncan was confused.

 “Well, it seems Athewyn knows how knit, and she wants to make him some proper warm clothes. Cutting bed sheets to make clothing is not the best thing for the child.”

Duncan could not understand why it was necessary, but he simply nodded.

Athewyn picked up the little baby in her arms. She rocked him gently and sang softly. Songs her mother once sang to her, of the Creators and the Beyond. He seemed to hold her gaze and smiled as she sang of the Eternal City, tales of wonder for ears as young as his.  Alistair fell asleep in her arms.

The Warden kept her voice low so as not to wake the sleeping babe. “I’ve just a few things, I already have much of it done, when I don’t sleep, I knit. A few  more days and I’ll have everything ready." Athewyn tried to return Alistair to his crib, but when he lost the warmth of his caregiver, the baby began to cry.

“You are going to be a needy one, aren’t you, ma vhenan. Hush.” She rocked Alistair again until he quieted down. She returned Alistair to his crib a second time, but continued to stroke his head and whisper to him until his eyes closed.

Duncan frowned. “Don’t coddle him. He’s fine.”

"Duncan, it is not coddling. Alistair likes to be held. He prefers to sleep while someone is holding him, that’s all.” She continued to speak to Alistair in soothing tones.

“All right, he sleeps, let the child be.” Duncan said.

Athewyn kissed Alistair’s forehead and said a small blessing over him. “Until later, ma vhenan.”

Duncan closed the door and left. Later that afternoon, Duncan was simply walking down one of the corridors when he heard an awful racket.

He found Alistair’s room open once again, with several dwarves singing loudly. As he hurried inside, he noted that Alistair was not crying and was actually sleeping through the racket.

 

I’ve heard of dwarves who get in fights,

‘bout every time they drink.

And those to have to have a woman,

Just to help them think.

And if you want to see a dwarf whine and beg and plead,

Just pour out all his ale and take away his mead!  


_Singing tavern songs to a baby? All of Weisshaupt has lost their senses._  “Time to go.” Duncan did not make it a polite request and ushered the singing trio of dwarves out of the room.  _Maker, what is it with everyone and coming in here every few minutes._  Duncan decided to stay in the room just out of sight of the door to stop any more ridiculous behavior. Duncan sat in a chair and eventually dozed off.

Not long after, he opened his eyes to see the First Warden rocking Alistair in her arms and talking softly to him. Duncan was shocked. The First Warden was making little silly noises at Alistair.

Duncan cleared his throat. Her head snapped around to the sound. Without so much as a blink, she stared at Duncan and gingerly returned Alistair to his crib without breaking her gaze. Once safely tucked in, she turned and ran from the room. Duncan didn’t think the old girl had it in her, but there it was.

Every day as their journey day drew closer found Duncan chasing one Warden after another out of the room. One morning he found Gregoire, a huge burly Warden in full armor standing crib side playing with Alistair with his gauntlets still on. Duncan stood in the doorway and watched. Finally, the Warden looked up and saw Duncan watching. He blushed and mumbled something unintelligible and then left the room.

Several days before they had planned to depart. Athewyn found Duncan and gave him a bag. “Here’s everything the little one will need." Duncan pulled out the bundle and was taken aback by all the blue and grey knitted items that sat on the table.  He picked up an item and held it aloft. “It’s a dress. Alistair is a boy.”

“It’s too much to try and put pants on a babe, this is long and will cover his legs. There are socks too!” She exclaimed, shifting items around until she pulled out several pairs of small grey socks. "There’s a cap for his head and a small blanket." Each one was expertly made, the emblem of the griffin unmistakable. The cap had tiny baby griffins circling the brim. The blanket held the impressive crest in the center, and the same image appeared on the clothing. “There’s several of each. Once I started I could not stop. The little one will need the warmth. It’s his own Warden Commander gear!” The woman beamed.

Duncan thanked the Warden for her gifts and promised to bring them on their journey. He stared at the pile of blue and grey clothing and rolled his eyes. “This is ridiculous.”  _She wanted to help._

However, Duncan refused to dress Alistair in the knitted clothing.  _Let Fiona take care of it_  . Duncan needed to forget about Alistair and the strange spell he held over all the wardens and inhabitants of Weisshaupt. He resolved to get something to eat and drink. He arrived at the mess, surprised by the large gathering. Duncan had just sat down when he heard an argument break out.

“See, he smiled at me.”  The first voice said.

“Of course he did, he’d smile at an ogre if it looked him in the eyes and made noises too. It’s a reflex, you dim wit!”

“No, look he smiled again!”

Duncan could not believe what he was hearing. He stalked over to the small crowd. There in the arms of one of the most battled hardened wardens, lay Alistair. There was no doubt he was content.

“Ok, it’s my turn. You’ve been holding him forever.”

“No, it’s my turn.”

Throughout the argument, there was an unmistakable laughter of a baby. This only served to fuel the verbal combatants even more.

One after the other claimed to have time reserved.  Duncan fought the urge to bang his head against the table. He pushed away from his seat and into the throng. “All right, time for Alistair to go back to his room. You should know better than to bring him in here. Alistair is best left to his mother and his rest."

He retrieved Alistair and slowly walked him back to his room. His tufts of ginger hair, warm eyes and yes, he did smile and laugh quite a bit.

When Duncan reached the chamber door, Alistair began to cry. “You like being with the Wardens, is that it?"  _Perhaps one day._

Duncan held Alistair until he fell asleep. When he tried to put Alistair in the crib, the baby began to wail. Duncan picked him up and rocked him walking around the room.  _Ferelden. Not that I’m upset about going back. It’s going to be a lot of responsibility._  Then there was Alistair. He was to be taken to King Maric. Fiona’s not going to stay with him. She wants him to have a human existence, and keep his true lineage a secret. All this trouble over a tiny, sleeping baby with a penchant for tavern songs and Wardens.

Duncan returned Alistair to his crib a second time, and this time he did not cry.

“Well Alistair, your start your journey now. Who will you be? Brave like your father? Dedicated and proud like your mother? You may not see me, you may not know me as you grow up; I will be there, watching out for you. I will find you when you need me most. I swear this to you.” 

Duncan turned to leave. He spoke in a soft undertone. “Sleep well, little one. Tomorrow, your adventure begins.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tavern song is taken directly from Dragon Age: Origins


	2. Little Boy Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby Alistair continues his journey and arrives in Denerim to meet King Maric.

Duncan arrived in Denerim with Alistair. The infant Alistair had proven to be a quiet child, sleeping whenever possible. The journey from Weisshaupt had been long, yet Alistair’s gentle nature had made the long trip easy for Duncan.

He was still concerned about the King’s reaction to the child and hoped that Alistair would receive the love and care he deserved.

Duncan relied on Alistair’s temperament to keep him hidden before he reached Maric’s private chamber. Hiding the babe within his cloak, he was brought to the King. Loghain Mac Tir sat with him at a small table as they were engaged in discussion.

Maric looked up to see the Warden enter his rooms.  “Duncan, welcome back to Ferelden. I trust your journey was pleasant?”

“Yes, thank your Majesty. I wonder if I may have a moment to discuss something private.” Duncan looked to Loghain and back to Maric. “What I must discuss is of a delicate nature.”

At that moment, Alistair chose to fuss. It started with a small whimper. Maric’s eyes widened at the sound. “Loghain, give me a moment.” Maric said.

Loghain nodded and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“Fiona?” Maric asked.

Duncan nodded. “Alistair.”

Maric ran his hands through his hair. “Duncan, is she . . . all right?”

Duncan lowered his head, Maric guessed as a sign of respect for Fiona. “Yes, your Majesty. She is well. I was tasked to bring Alistair to you. His mother wishes that he be raised without knowing of her or her. . . heritage.”

“I knew, yet I hoped she would raise him.” Alistair stirred again. “May I?”

Duncan lifted the babe from the sling that hung from his shoulder and placed Alistair into the King’s waiting arms.  Maric watched as Duncan adjusted the small knit cap and blanket around Alistair.

“Is that affection I see Duncan?” Maric smiled. “I would never have thought to see you show this side of you.”

Duncan did not meet Maric’s eyes. “Alistair seems to draw in everyone he meets. He charmed even the First Warden.” Duncan chuckled to himself at the memory of the First Warden cooing to Alistair in Weisshaupt.

Maric looked upon his son. _Would that I could, my son. I would keep you here with me. If not for Rowan’s memory, I would have you with me and give Cailan a brother. I have nothing to give you, just know it pains me to do what I fear I must._ Maric tried to return Alistair to Duncan’s care, but the babe began to cry. Maric cradled Alistair and slowly walked rocking him in his arms. _You deserve so much more, Alistair. My life is not my own._

Duncan could hear Loghain dismiss the guards and enter the room.

Maric turned to face Duncan. The Warden could see the reflection of torches in the tears pooling in Maric’s eyes. “Duncan. I can’t. What of Rowan and Cailan?  I know it’s not fair to Alistair, none of this is his fault.”

Loghain saw the pain reflected on the face of his friend and king. “I may have a solution. Eamon might be approached with your approval and request that he allow the child to be reared at Redcliffe. Should an opportunity arrive where we might add to his story, I assure you it will be taken.”

Maric did not like the idea of hiding his son away. “Loghain, is there no other way? Could he not be fostered in the Chantry as my son? What harm is there?” Maric returned Alistair to Duncan’s arms.

Loghain frowned. “Your Majesty, the harm is to the honor and memory of your wife. What of Cailan? What would he think? To have him fostered with Eamon at your request is the best solution. Eamon will care for the child and you will be able to see him when Eamon comes to Denerim.”

Maric took a long look at Alistair and hung his head. Maric inhaled slowly and as he exhaled, Duncan watched as King Maric once again stood before him.

 _I’ve failed Fiona. I can only hope that the Arl will agree to foster Alistair._ Duncan thought, the weight of what had transpired gripping his chest. _I should not care where Alistair goes, yet I can’t help thinking this is not the right solution. Alistair is no threat to the memory of the queen or to young Cailan._

“Duncan, you will take Alistair to Arl Eamon in Redcliffe tomorrow. I will prepare a private message for you to deliver as well. Say nothing of Alistair’s parentage to any in the palace. Will I be able to count on your discretion? “  Maric turned toward the fireplace, eyes lost in the movements of the flames.

“You have my word as a Warden, your Majesty, I will see the child safely to Redcliffe.”

Maric turned towards Duncan. “Alistair. His name is Alistair.” Maric’s gazed pierced through Duncan taking the Warden by surprise. “Please leave me, both of you. I require time alone.”

Duncan bowed and left the room with Loghain not far behind him.  “You should not have brought that child here, _Warden_.”  Loghain’s address sounded more like a curse than a title.

Duncan did not react. “I fulfilled a promise. I will do as the King demands. I would like to rest, my lord.”

Loghain directed a guard to take the warden to a guest room in the royal wing.

Duncan felt a growing unease as he retired. So much that stayed awake in the darkness of his room. After several hours of watching Alistair sleep, Duncan finally fell asleep, until the sound of the door opening jarred him awake.

The light from the torches in the hall illuminated the room in a soft light. Duncan watched as Maric stepped in and quietly closed the door behind him.

“Duncan. I know you are awake, I ask that you take time to prepare and leave when you are ready. The quartermaster and kitchen expect you for supplies.” Maric cautioned. “Here is the letter to Eamon, he will care for Alistair, of that I have no doubt.”

“Is there cause for concern?” Duncan asked.

Maric picked Alistair up from his slumber and held him. “I do not know, but I must be sure that Alistair is safe.”  Maric continued. “I must ask your assistance again. Watch over him, Duncan, while I may not be able to declare him my son, he has my love. You will carry out my protection. I know a king cannot command a Warden, but I ask you, will you do this for me?”

Duncan smiled at the sleeping babe. “I planned to even if you had not asked. I believe the Maker has plans for Alistair. I will see them done.”

“Thank you, Duncan. I can ask for nothing more.” Maric sat down on the bed. “You should prepare for the trip. Please be sure you have all you need, I would sit with Alistair until you are ready.”

Duncan bowed and left the room.

Alistair opened his eyes. He looked at Maric and smiled. “You definitely are my son, little one. Careful of that charm, it will land you either in trouble or in love. Just remember, when you find her hold on with all that you are, my son.”

Alistair cooed and laughed.

Maric laughed with him. “I agree, it may be a little too soon to worry about finding the right girl. I should tell you about your family, Alistair.” Maric began to recount the tales of Calenhad and the Theirin bloodline. Alistair would kick his legs and laugh and coo throughout the stories. Maric found himself laughing and telling the stories with such bravado, he forgot this was goodbye.

Duncan finally returned to his room. He was surprised to find Maric asleep with Alistair on his chest. Duncan quietly took the chair from the room and closed the door behind him. He sat in the hall opposite his door and waited.

___

Maric woke several hours later. He opened his eyes to find Alistair still sleeping. He held Alistair to his chest and sat up, reclining the babe in the crook of his arm. “One day, my son, a choice will need to be made by you between what is easy and what is right. Choose well. Before you leave, I have something for you. I will let Duncan know that it is to remain in your hands. This amulet belonged to your mother. You will keep it for me and I hope it will remind you that you are loved.”  Maric placed the amulet with Alistair’s bag. He kissed Alistair’s forehead and returned him to the bed.

Maric opened the door to find Duncan watching him. “Thank you, Duncan. The amulet in your pack belonged to Fiona, it is Alistair’s now. Make sure Eamon understands.” Maric felt a tear roll down his cheek. “Maker watch over you both on your journey. Please watch over him as your duties allow.”

“I will, your Majesty.” Duncan said as he walked towards the door.

Maric grabbed Duncan’s arm but did not face him. Duncan was surprised to feel the king’s hand shake ever so slightly. “If it ever comes to pass that he is unhappy or his safety is compromised, take him to the Wardens. Let him find purpose in their strength. Promise me, Duncan.”

Duncan nodded. “As you say.”

Maric slipped away and returned to his rooms. _Goodbye, my son. Live well, Alistair._ Maric knocked a vase into the wall opposite him and watched as it shattered. _Once again, I must choose the easy path and another life suffers for it._

Duncan adjusted the sling around his body and then lifted Alistair and placed him within the snug fabric.

“And so we continue, little one. I fear not to find a home, but a place of rest until the Maker reveals your path.” Duncan left before the sun rose and turned his mount to the Southwest, towards Redcliffe.

Duncan rode slowly and took the time to share more about Alistair’s family. “I met your father for the first time on a mission to the deep roads . . .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liberties were taken with some of the content. Continuing on from Alistair born in Weisshaupt, even though it is believed he was born closer to Redcliffe.  
> The rest is pure fabrication.


	3. My Father's Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duncan brings baby Alistair to Redcliffe

Duncan traveled alone with the infant Alistair hidden in a sling. The roads from Denerim to Redcliffe were not ideal. Bandits, thieves and wild animals were thrown into his path repeatedly, but Duncan usually was able to find a hiding place for the babe or out maneuver his attackers.

Halfway between Denerim and Lothering, Duncan was set upon by 3 men; he did not have enough warning to take Alistair to safety before the fight. Duncan fought at a disadvantage, often using his left arm to protect Alistair from incoming blows. A fierce fighter, Duncan prevailed.

Bloodied and tired, he tried to find shelter to check on little Alistair. Duncan heard no sound from the sling and feared the worst. Even this early into the dark his eyes could not focus to see the extent of Alistair’s injuries.  He felt the babe’s breathing to be even and heard nothing that escalated his fears. 

In the distance, a farm house glowed from the inside. Duncan mounted his horse and rode hard to reach the homestead with all speed. A child standing at the door yelled inside as Duncan came into view. Duncan placed both hands down, palms up and stood just outside the threshold of the gate. A couple and an elderly woman exited the house and looked on the bloodied man warily.

“I mean you no harm, I would ask to have a few moments by your firelight to be sure my young ward is uninjured.” Duncan indicated the sling at his side. Alistair stirred within the sling. The young woman’s eyes widened and she stepped toward Duncan without fear.

“You fought with a babe at your side?” At first, her tone was reserved, unsure of the bloodied man in front of her. The squirming bundle quickly fueled her resolve. “Have you no sense of reason? Give the child to me, I will do what I can.” He pulled the sling open for the woman to lift Alistair up. “He sleeps? What sort of an infant can sleep through a fight?” She carried Alistair inside and closed the door.

The man approached Duncan. “Please, you are welcome there is a well with water you may clean up if you wish. I can offer a place to sleep as well. My name is Brennan, my wife is Aislynn. I apologize for her abruptness. We have three children of our own and she tends to consider herself an expert with the little ones now.”

“My name is Duncan and I thank you for your kindness.” Duncan bowed.

The old woman had taken note of his armor and the silver crest of a beast long disappeared. “What brings a Warden from the west to this road?”

Duncan did not suppress his smile. “What makes you think I am a Warden? Wardens were exiled from Ferelden during the Storm age. Perhaps I merely took his armor.”

The old woman laughed. “You claim to be a bandit carrying an infant on the road to Lothering at night? I may be old but I am no fool. Keep your secrets Warden, better still keep the child’s secrets.”

Duncan bowed. “I plan to, dear lady.” Duncan heard her laugh again as she ventured inside the house.

A short time later, Duncan heard Alistair wail. He flew through the door of the house ready for trouble. What he saw confused him. Alistair held onto Aislynn’s finger and suckled. She tried to gently remove her hand and give him the tiny bladder filled with some sort of liquid. Alistair wailed and cried until she gave him her hand again.

She looked to Duncan and shrugged. “I don’t know what it is. I keep trying to feed him, it’s just sheep’s milk mixed with a fine grain. He won’t take it. He’s old enough for it. The only possible thing he could taste is the cheese. I was preparing them for our trip to Redcliffe farms when you arrived. They are rather potent, but he seems to take the soft cheese well enough. I will keep trying to get him to take the milk.”

Brennan took Duncan’s arm. “If I may have a moment, Ser.”

Duncan spoke gently. “I am not a knight, just a traveler, please call me Duncan.”

Brennan nodded and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Mother says you are a Warden. I would discuss an arrangement to help us both. You leave for Redcliffe tomorrow, as do we. If we could travel together, the babe could ride safely in our cart with my wife and children. Would you consider lending your skills to protect my family on the road?”

Duncan did not hesitate. Alistair would have safety and attention for the journey and Duncan could focus if trouble found the group. “I would be grateful for the assistance with the babe. I agree and thank you for your offer.”   

Alistair finally closed his eyes and fell asleep allowing Aislynn to reclaim her fingers. “So do we sit here calling him the babe or does he have a name?” Duncan thought back to Maric’s firmness regarding calling Alistair by his given name. “Alistair, his name is Alistair.”

The old woman chuckled in her chair. “A good name, a strong _noble_ Ferelden name. Your secrets are safe Warden, no one listens to the likes of me.”  Duncan nodded in response.

___

The following morning the party set out for Redcliffe Village. The journey would take a few days. Aislynn and her children rode with Alistair in the large cart. The trip to Lothering was quiet. Duncan was surprised that Maric’s edict regarding the return of the Wardens to Ferelden was already so widespread.

Duncan and the party continued on their journey not long after the stop in Lothering.  That afternoon, Duncan was surprised to hear the children laughing almost uncontrollably. He guided his horse to the cart to see what had brought on these fits of laughter. Duncan looked to Aislynn for an answer.

“Go ahead Warden, I defy even you to resist Alistair’s giggling. He started a few hours ago and just about any little thing sets it off. Once he starts, it’s hard not to join in.” Aislynn said. She picked up one of Alistair’s feet, pursed her lips and blew on it. The giggling that erupted out of the small babe was louder than he had ever heard Alistair before. The children quickly joined in which only made Alistair giggle more. Duncan surprised himself as a smile crept onto his face.

“I told you, Warden.” Aislynn said laughing as she talked. 

Aislynn tickled Alistair until the giggling began anew. Alistair kicked his little legs and pumped his arms. He squealed and laughed. Alistair would make a sound and startle himself only to start laughing again. This continued for some time. The smile on Duncan’s face grew so deep he surprised himself. Finally unable to stop, Duncan laughed. His laugh was so rich and deep, this laughter from the depths of his heart that he feared had been gone forever. Alistair looked at Duncan and laughed along with him. For the first time since he and Fiona had returned to Weisshaupt, Duncan believed that Alistair would be all right.

Brennan commented from his seat at the front of the cart. “If the lot of you doesn’t stop this ridiculous laughing, they’re going to turn us away.”

Aislynn responded. “Oh hush. I see you laughing there, too. Just mind the road and the cart.”

___

The journey came to its end as the bridge to Redcliffe Village lay before them. Duncan had Brennan stop the cart. “Here is where we part company. Thank you all for a most enjoyable journey. Maker watch over you.” Duncan allowed his traveling companions time to say goodbye to Alistair. Aislynn cried as little Alistair was placed back in his sling.

“You watch over him Warden. Promise me or else I’ll have at you Warden or not.” Aislynn said.

“As you wish, dear lady. Alistair will be all right and should he need me I will be at his side.” Duncan assured her as he seated himself on his horse. 

Brennan motioned to his wife and children to climb back into the cart. “Maker’s breath, Aislynn, let the man go.” He turned to Duncan and nodded in thanks. Duncan returned the gesture and continued on the road towards Redcliffe Castle.

___

Alistair had fallen asleep as Duncan was shown to the Arl’s study. He did not speak but merely handed over the letter packet from the King.

Eamon saw the seal and the writing and regarded the man in Grey Warden armor before him. “Warden, would you close the door, please?”

Duncan turned to close the study door giving Eamon full few of the sling that hung at his side. Eamon frowned and opened the sealed letter.

_Eamon,_

_The Warden stands in front of you by my request. I started several versions of this letter trying to find the best words, the perfect words. There is but one truth: Alistair is my son._

_I do not agree with Loghain that Alistair is a threat to Rowan’s memory or to Cailan. But I have agreed to ask that you raise my son in my place._

_In the near future Cailan and Alistair should be introduced to allow them to be the brothers they are meant to be._

_If you are not able or willing to give Alistair a home, the Warden will take him._

_Please consider my son in your decision._

_Maric_

Eamon sighed. Maric could have made this a royal decree, but he did not. He signed with his name and gave Eamon a choice. “Let me see the child, Warden.”

Duncan reluctantly lifted Alistair from his resting place. Alistair smiled as Duncan held him up. Eamon was surprised to see the affection between the Warden and the babe. Alistair put his small hand on Duncan’s face and laughed.

 _The child already has a champion_. Eamon thought. Duncan walked Alistair to Eamon’s side.  

“Arl Eamon, may I present Alistair.” The babe put his head on Duncan’s shoulder and turned his head away.  “Alistair, there is no reason to be afraid. You must meet new people face to face.”

Eamon gestured with his arms out. “May I?” Duncan gently handed Alistair to the Arl. “Hello, my boy. I am, well I guess I am your uncle if I think on it.” Eamon looked into Alistair’s eyes. _Maric’s eyes._ Eamon knew that had Rowan lived she would not have allowed this child to leave her side. She would have loved Alistair as if he were her own. “I’ll need to find a way to protect who you really are, Alistair. A distant relative perhaps?”

Duncan frowned. “If I may, Arl Eamon, I would not recommend a noble of any kind. A servant or attendant would be best. Eventually, the truth will be known, but for his own safety it would be better for Alistair to have no ties to the royal line.”

Eamon considered Duncan’s insight and nodded. “You are right, Warden. My brother is expected in the next few days, we will attempt to construct the best story for young Alistair.”

Duncan shook his head slightly. “I am afraid that this secret should not be shared outside this room. Alistair is the son of a servant and a nobleman. You have willingly taken the child in as the young woman once worked for your family or for you, whichever you are most comfortable in repeating. She was taken to the Maker’s side not long after Alistair was born.  The rumors will fly of that you can be sure.”

Eamon nodded. “I will endure whatever comes to protect him. I will let the King know as much.”

Duncan placed Fiona’s amulet on the desk. “This belonged to Alistair’s mother. Give it to him when he will understand its meaning. The King’s instructions on this were absolute.”

“Thank you, I will see it done.” Eamon soon realized that Alistair had fallen asleep in his arms. “Warden, would you stay and rest? It is not lost on me that you have great affection for Alistair.”

Duncan felt a strange emptiness in his chest. He knew this is where he must leave Alistair. Duncan cleared his throat and was surprised at how softly he spoke. “I must return to Denerim. I should let his Majesty know that Alistair is safe with you.”

Duncan turned to leave and then hesitated, without facing the Arl, he spoke. “Promise me that should Alistair need help or refuge, you will find me in Denerim. I, too, made a promise to King Maric and will see it fulfilled.”

Duncan chastised himself for the flood of emotions he felt. _He is not your son. It is time to leave these games behind Duncan and follow your promise to the Wardens._ As soon as Duncan took a step, Alistair began to fuss. Duncan returned to the Arl and was surprised at his own tone. “With respect Arl Eamon, I must ask this before I will leave. His mother has given him away, only to be denied by his father. I must know that you will not abandon this child. I would rather take him to the Wardens now where he will have a family than to see him cast aside. What say you, my lord?”

Eamon was moved by the gentle determination of the Warden. _He cares for the boy. Rowan would have as well._ “I will swear on the memory of Cailan’s mother, my sister. Alistair shall be welcome here. I promise to protect his lineage and fulfill King Maric’s wishes that his sons meet. Will that be sufficient, Warden?”

“It will have to be.” Duncan looked on Alistair’s face. Duncan was unaware that he must have been frowning as Alistair’s bottom lip quivered. Eamon handed Alistair back to Warden who had cared for him.

“I’ll have none of that Alistair; there isn’t any reason to be sad.” Duncan started. “This is just one more step along the way for you, little one. I’ll be there when you need me.” Duncan hoped that day would never come.

Alistair looked at his guardian and friend and he responded in the only way he knew.  He stuck his tongue between his lips and blew. He stopped and watched as Duncan closed his eyes. Then it started. Alistair giggled, a little at first. It grew slowly, and when Duncan made a silly face at Alistair, the giggle grew to an infectious laugh. Duncan smiled and handed Alistair back to Eamon.

Duncan looked to the Arl. “If you ever utter a word of what happened here today, I will not be pleased.”

Eamon hid a smile. “Your secret is safe, Warden.”

Duncan knew he could delay no longer. “Be careful, he’s fast if you put him down. Good bye, little one. Live well, Alistair.” Duncan could ask for no finer send off than the sound of laughter from little Alistair that followed him as he left.

Duncan never returned to Redcliffe Castle; although occasionally a letter would find its way to him to share the exploits of a very joyful and playful little boy.


	4. Good Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair is a young boy forced to entertain himself in a very large castle. This is but one of his fantastic adventures.

Alistair was six years old. He knew he could make his way around the castle without too much trouble. He stopped in the kitchen with blanket and his golem doll. Moving under the tables, he sought his prize – just a bit of cheese and a few items for his adventure.

“Don’t think I can’t see you skulking about young man. If the Arlessa catches you, you be in a right spot.” Cook stood with her arms crossed tapping her foot.

Alistair froze. He peeked out from beneath the table and smiled a crooked smile at Cook.  He looked up at her. “It’s just an adventure! I’m going to capture the Fort in Denerim! I just need a few supplies.”

Cook laughed. “You are quite the little charmer young Alistair.” She crossed to the larder entrance. “Fine, in you go, but not too much. You don’t want a belly ache.” Cook walked away muttering about a child that age with an unholy love of cheese was bound to be trouble. Alistair put enough food for a day into his blanket and grabbed his doll.

Cook watched him leaving and grabbed the blanket. “A sack, boy, not your blanket, use a little sense.” She transferred his items and put in an apple and some bread as well. “In case you get captured!” She teased. The two kitchen maids laughed but agreed wholeheartedly that Alistair should be prepared.

“Good thinking!” He nodded and started back for the hall.

“A moment, brave knight!” Cook said.

“I’m not a knight, I’m a Warden.” Alistair corrected Cook’s error.

“Apologies, Warden Alistair you forgot your cape!” Cook grabbed the blanket and using a tie from a flour sack secured the blanket around his neck. “Now, be careful brave Warden.”

“I will, thank you Cook.” Alistair’s smile reached from ear to ear and grabbed ahold of his eyes.

He heard Cook talking as he left the kitchen. “Mark my words, girls that one’s going to be a handful.”

___

Alistair crept through the hall. “Ok, you check to see if anyone’s coming.” He held the doll up around the corner and then brought him back. “Did you see anyone? What’s that? Oh, right. You don’t really have eyes. Right. Well, I’ll just hide beneath my cape for protection.”

Alistair covered his head with the blanket and walked through the main hall. The sentries on guard looked at each other and smiled. “Hold and declare, young squire! Where might you be off to!”

Alistair flipped the blanket over his head. “I’m a Warden, not a squire. I’m off to capture the fort in Denerim!”

“Begging the Warden’s pardon, sir, I should warn you that the lady of the house is not pleased with the muddy cats you let in yesterday. She’s complaining right now. We’ll walk you out so you can continue your mission.”

Alistair’s shoulders fell. “It wasn’t my fault. We were trying to get away from the High Dragon. A High Dragon is no joke, you know!”

“So true, Warden. Come on. Stay with us.” The soldiers blocked Alistair from view and walked him to the main door. “Here you are Warden and I’ve a gift for your journey. This is a key for the fort, should make your quest a little easier.”

“Thank you!” Alistair was thrilled. The key was just a thin post with a ring at the end.

“Good luck, Warden.”

Alistair opened the door as the two soldiers returned to their posts. “What key did you give him?”

The first sentry explained. "It unlocks the Mabari cages, we all have a few of those. It’s just a pin key; you push it in to unlock the cage door. He’ll figure it out.” 

The sentries resumed their watch. “It’s a shame really, he’s a bright boy. Just doesn’t get any attention here. That’s why he always plays the dolt with the Arlessa. If she thought he was smart, he’d probably be punished more often.” The first sentry said.

“Was it a good thing to give him the key to cages?”

The first sentry laughed. “The worst he can do with that is lock himself inside a cage for a day. For a boy with that kind of story-telling, he’ll have great fun.”


	5. The Littlest Warden

I’m Bored

Alistair sat on his bed kicking his feet. “There’s nothing to do.” He lay down on his stomach and hung his head down over the bed.

“The great explorer Alistair lowers himself into the dragon’s lair.” Alistair slowly slunk to the floor and scurried under the bed. “He climbed into the hole and waited.”

One of the maids stuck her head in the room. “Out hunting again are we?”

“No,” he sighed. “I’m bored. I was going to hunt a dragon, but I’ve done that already.”

She hid a smile. “Have you now. Well, what about a griffin, have you ridden a griffin yet?"

He cradled his chin in his hands. “Yesterday, actually.”

The maid thought for a bit, until another passed by, “Is there a problem Livie?”

“No, young master Alistair is bored. Dragons are no good and he rode a griffin yesterday.”

Alistair crawled out from behind the bed and sat atop it. “I did pirates the day before that. I wasn’t a very good pirate. I went in search of treasure and got lost. Do you know what happened?  A sea monster took my ship for a snack!” Alistair shook his head. “I don’t think I want to be a pirate again.”

Livie smiled. “How awful. A pirate must lead a tricky life.”

Alistair’s eyes widened. “You know what? It is true. I should have thought of that.”

“Livie, you’d better head to the next room. I’ll see if I can help,” said Jessa. “Well, what have you done besides those you just mentioned?”

Alistair counted his fingers. “I’ve been a Templar and a Warden.  That didn’t turn out well. I got eaten by a darkspawn, but apparently Wardens taste rather disgusting and somehow I survived.”

Jessa nodded. "Perhaps you're right, must have been horrible for the darkspawn. What else have you done?"

“I’ve fought with the dwarves, and the elves. Forget mages, they scare me. There was this one time I made one angry, because I wanted to get something to eat. She threatened to turn me into a pig and stick me in a pen. So no mages. Ever.”  

Jess thought and raised her index finger. “What about King? Have you been King yet?”

Alistair crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue. “No, that’s even more boring.”

Jessa laughed. “Perhaps so. Ah! I have an idea. Wait here!”

Alistair sat down on his bed again. After a few minutes, Jessa returned. She put an object in his hand.

“It’s just a rock.” Alistair said, raising an eyebrow. “What is this for?”

Jessa smile and took two steps into the room. She looked around and then whispered. “It’s a magic rock. It came from Tevinter, or Antiva or the Anderfels. I can’t remember which. But if you listen really closely, it has stories to tell. My father was a bard. He learned many stories from this rock. I’m going to let you keep it safe for me. Now it may not speak out loud, but give it time, you’ll hear the stories in your head.”

“Will you keep this safe for me Alistair? You can’t let it fall into the hands of Orlesians. Promise me Alistair.”

Alistair looked at rock – and smiled. “I can keep it secret. Is this really for me?”

Jessa nodded. “You are now the official caregiver for the magic story telling rock. Sometimes you may have to tell it a story before it will tell you a story, just remember that. It won’t eat much and will sleep when you do.”

Alistair laughed and fell backward on his bed “Won’t eat much. She thinks you won’t eat much. We’ll show her, right?” Alistair giggled and clutched his magic rock.

Jessa straightened her smock and brushed off her hands. “Do you think you’ll be all right now, Alistair?”

Alistair had the rock up to his ear. He raised his index finger to his lips and whispered, “He’s talking.”

Jessa smiled and winked and closed Alistair’s door.  


	6. First Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair has his first tutoring session

First Lesson

Alistair sat in a chair listening to the brother talk. He’d given up trying to follow and was counting the stones around the fireplace.

His tutor was acutely aware of the young boy’s lack of interest. “Alistair, why don’t we talk for the rest of the lesson?”

Alistair was looking at his hands and feet. “I have a question. I can count to ten on my hands and to twenty on my feet, right?”

The brother smiled. “Alistair, you can count to twenty without your hands and feet.”

“I know, but if I need to go higher than twenty do I grow more fingers?  What do I do when I’ve used them all up?" Alistair sat quietly waiting for an answer.

The brother saw another opportunity to teach Alistair something new. “I have an idea. Did you know you can use tally marks to count things as well as fingers and toes?”

Alistair shook his head. “What’s a tally mark?”

The brother pulled out a paper and a quill and his writing board.  “Follow me, please.” Alistair followed the brother deeper into the library. “What would happen if I asked you to count all these books?”

Alistair doubled over in laughter. “My head would fall off!”

It was hard not to laugh; Alistair took so much joy in every part of his day. “I suppose it would. Allow me to show you how you could do it AND keep your head from rolling around on the floor. Every book you count, you make a mark like this: the brother drew a straight line to show Alistair. You can count to five, yes?” Alistair nodded and his tutor continued his instruction. “Every time you count to five, you draw a line through the other four.”

Alistair was given the writing board. “I count one book and I make a mark. I count two books and I make a mark. I count three books and make a mark and then I count four books and make a mark.  Now I count five books and go like this, right?” Alistair drew a line through the other four.

“Well done, Alistair. Now you know how to count higher than twenty without running out of fingers and toes.” The brother knew that the next step was a little more difficult and would have to wait until Alistair was a little older. “Practice this and let my words sink in. Eventually, I will teach you the next step.”

The brother left Alistair to his new skill.

Later that evening, Eamon sat in his study reading when the Alistair’s tutor requested some time.

“My lord, I wanted to share some of Alistair’s lesson with you. However, I believe that perhaps we should stick to basic reading and writing with him for now.”

Eamon frowned at the suggestion. “I disagree. Alistair is very bright and already reads quite well.”

The man sighed and showed Eamon Alistair’s work. “I showed him how to do basic tally marks to learn to count higher and then this is what he gave me.”

Eamon looked at the parchment. The tally marks were clear and close together, Alistair had a steady hand. The first few groupings were pristine. The next was confusing to Eamon. A small round circle was drawn on the left side of the group with more lines coming out from either side. “What kind of a mark is this?” Eamon pointed at the circle. The pattern repeated itself throughout the remaining tally groups, appearing and disappearing in different locations.

“That is Parchment Alistair. He told me the lesson was a little boring at the end and he wanted to play a seeking game. So the parchment Alistair hid from him. Each time you see the head and arms, he found Parchment Alistair.” The brother was not happy.

Eamon held in a laugh. “All right, I’ll talk with him."

Eamon found Alistair on his bed using a book as a pillow.  “Parchment Alistair! Very clever, my boy. Don’t worry about your lesson. Tell me, why are you sleeping on the book?”

  “The brother said that I needed to let his words sink in. I didn’t understand how to do that, so I thought I would try this.”

Eamon tousled Alistair’s hair and asked for the book. “Good night, Alistair. I eagerly await tomorrow’s adventure.”

Alistair yawned. “Me too.”

 


	7. He's My Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young Alistair travels to Denerim to meet Prince Cailan.

Alistair was seven years old. He’d had fun in Redcliffe, mostly because of the mischief and the games he would play by himself. The Arl had married a woman name Isolde. She didn’t like Alistair very much. He could figure that out on his own. The guards and maids and other attendants usually made sure to keep Alistair away from her.

But on this journey it was just the Arl, Alistair and a contingent of guards and a few attendants. Alistair sat on a horse. He’d ridden horses plenty of times. He just wasn’t happy about it. They didn’t like him very much sometimes either. “Why are we going to Denerim?” Alistair asked.

Arl Eamon rode next to him. He did not turn to answer the boy. “There is a Landsmeet, and I have a promise to fulfill.”

“What’s that? I mean what is a Landsmeet? It sounds a bit painful.” Alistair frowned. The guard that rode with Alistair laughed.

Eamon chuckled. “Quite right, young man. It can be indeed painful. But perhaps not as you imagine. It is a gathering of all the nobles houses, the Teyrns and Teyrnas, Arls and Arlessas, Banns, and all those interested parties in one place and the King of course. The prince will be there too, Alistair. I know that Prince Cailan is quite eager to meet you. He is five years older than you are Alistair.”

“Why would he want to meet me? I’m not special. I just live with you and the Arlessa. Cook says you’ll send me away soon if the Arlessa gets what she wants. Could I stay in Denerim then?”

Eamon frowned. Isolde was getting more difficult about Alistair’s presence. He would speak to Maric if the opportunity presented itself. Eamon did not want Alistair to go to the Wardens, if anything happened to Cailan. . .

The guard cleared his throat and brought Eamon’s attention back to young Alistair. “Don’t worry about the Arlessa. I will take care of it.”

“Can I ask another question?” Alistair said.

“May I ask a question, and yes, please do.” The Arl said smiling.

“Do I call the prince by his first name?”

The Arl nodded. “An excellent question! You should address young Cailan as “your Highness”, but if he gives you leave to call him Cailan, then you may use his first name. The proper thing to do is whenever you are a group of people always say the title. Let the prince, or any noble tell you it is acceptable to address them otherwise. But! Once again, when someone new joins the conversation, use their title. If that is too confusing, just always use their title.”

Alistair scratched his head. Eamon loved Alistair’s curiosity and questions; he was so bright and full of energy. Eamon knew he doted a bit too much on the boy and often ignored Alistair’s more colorful mischief in the castle. Alistair had a talent for keeping himself busy telling stories and finding trouble. Most of the time Eamon would have to reprimand Alistair with his back turned to hide the smile he always wore when he learned of Alistair’s latest adventure.

Eamon wrote Maric as he was able to share the stories about Alistair’s adventures in Redcliffe.  He knew the letters about Alistair would never receive a response, but Eamon hoped he could bring Maric some peace of mind into the joy that Alistair brought to him and so many in Redcliffe.

Eamon hoped that Isolde would consider allowing Alistair to be a permanent part of their family. He knew sadly that she would not. Eamon could not break his vow to keep Alistair’s parentage a secret and he feared sharing that secret might be the only way to persuade Isolde to let Alistair remain.

“Arl Eamon? Why can you call the prince by his first name?” Alistair asked.

“Cailan is my nephew. His mother was Queen Rowan, King Maric’s wife. However, I too call the prince by his proper title in public.”

Alistair’s questions continued for a fair part of the journey. At some point Alistair fell silent.

Eamon addressed his guard. “Does he sleep?”

Alistair answered. “No, I think the guard is just quiet, sir.”

Both the guard and Eamon laughed. “We’ll stop soon, my boy. You can rest then.”

“If it’s all right with you, I’d like to keep going. I don’t want to miss the prince. That would be bad manners, right?” Alistair asked.

“Perhaps, but we have time.” Eamon replied.

Alistair sighed. “If we had griffins this would go a lot faster.”

Eamon nodded. “Quite right. Sadly, we seem to be out of real griffins in Thedas.”

Alistair thought for a few moments. “Maybe that’s what I can do when I get older. Find real griffins! I could do that. I flew on one before, you know.”

Eamon knew of his exploits in the cellars. “Did you now? That was in the cellar if I remember correctly.”

“Yes! That’s true. Only, it didn’t go so well. The barrel, I mean the griffin didn’t like being in the cellar and sort of broke a few crates apart.”

Eamon smiled. “I remember. Pesky things, griffins. Perhaps you will find more well behaved creatures when you are older, my boy.”

Alistair nodded.

___

Denerim was a magical place to a young boy of seven. The marketplace was better than anything Alistair had ever imagined. The Wonders of Thedas store was his favorite. Eamon had given him a doll from the store a few years ago and it was still his favorite even though it was unraveling quite a bit. The Guerrin Estate was a whole new place to explore. Alistair had barely slept his first night as he explored every inch of the large estate.

The next morning, he fussed as he was dressed in fancier clothing than he was used to wearing. “I don’t like this. Can’t I just be me when we go?”

The attendant did her best with the squirming boy. “Master Alistair. Arl Eamon specifically requested your change of dress as you are expected to accompany him to the royal palace! That’s quite an honor, young man. You can’t look like a stable boy, can you?"

“Ok, but, just so you know. I really don’t like this.” Alistair whined.

Arl Eamon entered Alistair’s room. “Almost ready? We need to be on our way.“ Eamon held out his hand for Alistair. “We’ll be accompanied by guards as we walk. That way you can see everything from here to the royal palace.”

Alistair did not speak. He was in awe of everything around him. Knights in silver armor with flaming swords that Alistair recognized as Templars. Arl Eamon had Templar knights in Redcliffe, Alistair knew many of them by name.

As they walked, each new wonder would prompt question after question from the young boy. Eamon promised to answer them all after they were finished. As Eamon and Alistair passed the Royal palace gateway, a small contingent of knights headed in their direction. This armor Alistair head never seen before. Silver armor, with the brightest blue Alistair had ever seen.  His eyes wide, mouth dropped open as he caught sight of the emblem. A griffin! They were Grey Wardens! Alistair could barely contain his glee. They had real griffins, he knew that from the stories he was told. They were special knights and fought demons and darkspawn. Alistair broke free of Eamon’s grasp and stood before the small group. The Wardens were amused at the adoration this small child bestowed on them and smiled at the young boy’s expression. “My name is Alistair. I’ve been a Warden and was eaten by a darkspawn once. But somehow he spit me back out and I survived. Does that happen to you too?” The light laughter and glances around the Wardens continued as Alistair did not even stop to breathe. ”I rode a griffin, too. But it turned out to be just a barrel and that didn’t go too well. Do you think I could borrow a griffin, just to get back home to Redcliffe?”

A soft but firm voice met the group of Wardens gathered around young Alistair. Eamon too had joined the group after hearing Alistair’s voice in the small crowd. “We need to keep moving. What is the problem?” The newcomer asked.

“A young boy, Warden Commander. He has a rather interesting story to tell and has requested that we lend him a griffin to return to Redcliffe.” One of the Warden’s offered.

Eamon could see the face of Duncan behind the gathered Warden group. He spoke to all of them. “My apologies, Wardens. Young Alistair has a wonderful imagination and a keen interest in the Wardens. We will not hold you up any longer.” Eamon looked at Alistair and spoke gently. “I am sorry, my boy, but the Wardens have important business as do we.”

Alistair’s head and shoulders fell.  Eamon continued in a whisper. “We have important business inside. A very special person is anxious to meet you, Alistair. Say good bye and thank you to the Wardens.”

Alistair nodded. “Thank you very much. I have somewhere I need to be, but I would like to borrow a griffin some time.” Alistair waved and resumed his walk with Eamon. One of the Wardens stopped Eamon. Alistair looked up at the man. He was darker like Portia from the kitchens. She was from an island that Alistair couldn’t remember.

Eamon stopped briefly. “Alistair, this is the Warden Commander for all of Ferelden. Show manners, please, my boy.”

Alistair stood straight. “I am pleased to meet you Warden Commander, my name is Alistair.”

Duncan looked to Eamon who gave a small nod in response.  Duncan spoke kindly to the young boy. “A pleasure Alistair. I do not wish to keep you from your mission young sir. Always listen to those who are willing to help you.” Alistair nodded. Duncan put his hand to his heart and bowed. Alistair pulled his hand from Eamon’s grasp and returned to gesture. The corners of Duncan’s mouth raised slightly in the hint of a smile.

“Time to go Alistair.” Eamon said.

__

Alistair sat on a bench in one of the rooms aside from the main hall. Many different people walked by him, but said nothing. A boy quite a bit older and a young girl found Alistair sitting by himself.

“Are you lost?” Asked the boy. He had a friendly smile. “Who are you waiting for, maybe I can help?” The girl left and moved off on her own.

Alistair shrugged. “I’m here with Arl Eamon. I’m from Redcliffe. My name is Alistair.”

The boy stuck out his hand. “Hello, Alistair! I’m Fergus, my sister Elissa is over there somewhere. Nice to meet you. We’re from Highever!” Alistair shook the boy’s hand and smiled.

Just as Fergus started to talk with Alistair, Arl Eamon exited one of the other rooms.  “Alistair, please come away.” Eamon recognized Fergus Cousland. “Young master Fergus! I am pleased to see you again, did you come with your father?”

“Yes, Arl Eamon. My father was over near the main hall I believe. I shall tell him you asked after him if you like?” Fergus said. Alistair was in awe of the older boy. He hoped he could sound like that one day.

“Thank you, Fergus. That would be appreciated. I am afraid I must take Alistair away. Perhaps later?”

“I will ask, Arl Eamon. It was nice meeting you Alistair!” Fergus went in search of his family.

Eamon led Alistair to a large side room. An older boy sat at a table. He was older than Alistair, and had light colored hair. Alistair could see another man standing off towards the rear of the room and several guards posted   around the room.

Alistair whispered to Eamon. “Is that boy Prince Cailan?”

“Yes, Alistair.” Eamon led Alistair to the table where Cailan sat. “Your Highness, may I present Alistair. Your father explained that Alistair is living at Redcliffe castle?”

Cailan looked at Alistair and smiled. “I am very pleased to meet you Alistair. Would you sit and talk?” He turned to Eamon. “Thank you Uncle. I believe my father waits for you in the alcove.”  

Eamon bowed and walked away. Cailan waited for Eamon to leave. “Ugh. I really don’t like this formal stuff at all. Please just call me Cailan, all right?” Alistair nodded. “Don’t be afraid of me. I’m no different than you are.”

Alistair laughed as he spoke. “Right. Let me ask you a question. Did you see the Wardens when they were here?”

Cailan nodded. “They were here to talk with my father. The Warden Commander Duncan is always nice to me, when he is here. I like hearing all the stories about the Wardens.”

Alistair and Cailan started to talk. Eamon watched from the seat in the alcove as Alistair and Cailan laughed and became more animated in their discussion. Eamon chuckled as he assumed Alistair was telling one of his stories the way his small arms flailed about and he crouch and moved around the table.

“He seems happy, Eamon.”  The other man said.

“He is, your Majesty. A bit of a handful, sometimes, but a lovely boy. Does Cailan know?”

Maric sighed. “He suspects. Why else would I have forced a meeting? Cailan is aware that this will go no further than this room. Perhaps later, that might change.”

Cailan called out to the alcove. “Father! May I show Alistair my room? We will not be long!”

Eamon stood. “With your permission I will go with them.” Maric waived his hand in assent. “Let them play.”

Alistair looked at Cailan. “That’s the king?”

“Yes, that’s King Maric. I don’t understand why he- never mind. Let’s go Alistair.”

Alistair looked back into the shadows. He tried to see if he could catch a glimpse of a real king. When he realized it was too dark, Alistair stood straight, put his hand on his heart as Duncan had, and bowed. Alistair was shocked as a figure moved just to the edge of the shadows and bowed to him in the exact same way.

“Come on Alistair! Let’s go.”

He waited a moment, thinking there might be something more; but the figure melted back into the shadows of the dark corner.


	8. Desperately Seeking Alistair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Redcliffe Castle wakes, one of its youngest is missing.

Desperately Seeking Alistair

Isolde was in Orlais for several weeks. This was not an uncommon occurrence, but it did allow Eamon time with Alistair. There was only one problem this morning. Alistair could not be found.  Eamon had wanted to take the boy riding but when he went to wake him his room was empty.

Eamon searched room after room. Upstairs and down. Every able body had been mustered to find the young boy. Everyone knew that Alistair would often disappear for hours as he played elaborate games in the castle. This was different. Alistair could always be found. He would always answer when called.

All of Redcliffe had stopped. If Isolde had been in residence, Alistair would have been shuffled from kitchen hand to maid to guard to keep him out of sight of the Arlessa to enjoy the day’s adventure.  Not today. Eamon started in the kitchen, knowing that it was Alistair’s first stop each morning.

Cook saw the concern on the Arl’s face. She wiped her hands on her apron and walked around her work table. “Still no sign my lord? We’ve checked the larder at least a dozen times and found nothing. I had several of the boys even move bags and crates to see if the little one was hiding. I checked the storage room myself and he was not there. Have you tried the library? He told me there was an ogre inside that tried to eat him just yesterday.”

Eamon tried not to laugh. “I believe it was one of the knights snoring that was Alistair’s ogre. The man admitted as much to me earlier this morning.”

Cook scratched her head and tried to think on Alistair’s routines. The cellar? He keeps his magical beasts there as the Arlessa does not venture down below.”

Eamon nodded. “Thank you, I will.  I did not mean to disturb your work.”

“No trouble, my lord, that little boy is a perfect slice of sunshine in this kitchen every morning. I can help search if you don’t mind I can’t move too fast these days.”

The Arl smiled. “No, thank you, he will be found. Should he suddenly appear, please find me.”

“Yes, Arl Eamon.” The woman returned to her work.

Eamon was concerned. Could someone have discovered Alistair’s secret? He quickened his pace and gathered several knights from the main hall. “Find the boy. Search every part of the castle. Half of you take the village. I cannot waste any more time.”

If Alistair was indeed missing, he would need to send word to Denerim. He would need more help. Eamon’s heart thumped furiously in his chest. _If I have lost the boy, Maric will never forgive me._

Eamon was unsure what to do, trying to decipher all of Alistair’s stories to find hiding places was not going to be an easy task. He would check the cellar.

“Eamon! What in the Maker’s name is going on? The entire compliment is searching for the boy?” Teagan had found Eamon as he was preparing to enter the cellar.

Eamon sighed. “Alistair is missing. I do not know for how long and I must find him, otherwise I must send you to Denerim with several knights in all haste.”

Teagan was confused. “Eamon, you already have the town talking about the boy. You should not have kept your bastard child around and pretended that he belonged to another. Isolde speaks out often against the child.”

“Listen to me. Alistair is not my son. Not mine. He does belong to another. If I have lost the child to my negligence I will have to answer to a greatest authority in Ferelden.”

It took Teagan just a few seconds to realize what Eamon had shared. “He is Maric’s son? Eamon, how could you hide this from me? If this were to be common knowledge. . .”

“I need to find Alistair.”   Eamon continued into the cellar with Teagan. 

“My lord! Arl Eamon! The kennel master reports that one of the mabari is missing.”

Eamon wondered if this was Alistair’s doing as well. “Teagan, go help the kennel master.” Eamon continued and then turned around. “Teagan, wait! A moment in private!”

When Teagan joined him, they stepped to the side. “The escape route, it opens from our side without the ring, yes? But if the hatch closed behind him.  .  .  I think I know where Alistair and the mabari may be!”

“The mill? Of course! The hatch can’t be opened without the family signet ring. The boy must have gone through!” Teagan exclaimed. “The escape route is this way.”

Teagan and Eamon moved through the dark corridors towards the exit to the mill. Teagan lifted the hatch.

The sound of monstrous snoring filled their ears. Teagan ascended and moved around the center post. He stopped abruptly. Eamon peered over Teagan’s shoulder.

There on the floor of the mill surrounded by sacks and containers lay a snoring mabari hound. Alistair lay curled in the dog’s flank knees to his chest. His small hands tucked under his head using the mabari as a pillow.

“Do we wake him?” Teagan asked.

“No, I will stay with him, Teagan. Please go back and end the search. Let all know that Alistair was found.”

Eamon could not help but smile. Alistair. He was special to him. The thought of losing him was too much. Eamon coughed from the dust inside the mill. The hound opened her eyes and yawned. She stretched her front legs out and adjusted so that Alistair could continue to sleep.

“Hello, my dear.” Eamon started to talk to the mabari. “Thank you for protecting Alistair. What adventures did he share with you, I wonder? Did you travel through the Wilds or perhaps the Brecilian Forest? Did you wander the Storm Coast?

Alistair yawned. “Nope. I just wanted a quiet place to sleep. I found her in the cellar when I woke up. I’m too tired for an adventure. Can I sleep here?”

“Let’s get you back to the castle, my boy. I’ve had everyone hunting for you for quite some time.” Eamon said helping Alistair to his feet.

“An Alistair hunt? I missed it.  I could hide again if you like?” Alistair said.

“No, my dear boy. I think I have had my fill of Alistair hunts.” Eamon knelt and hugged Alistair tight. “I think it’s time I told you a few stories for a change."

“Will there be knights and dragons?” Alistair asked excited all traces of his sleepiness dissolved.

“My dear boy, I know the perfect tale. Let us return and I will share it with you. It started with a Rebel Queen and her son . . .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this adorable art. http://allenvooreef.tumblr.com/post/131289684253/still-a-day-behind-with-inktober-but-heres-poor


	9. The Stable Boy and the Amulet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair learns that his time in Redcliffe has reached its end. 12/18/2015

The Stable Boy and the Amulet

Alistair sat in the stables at Castle Redcliffe. He knew that this time he was in serious trouble. Master Dennet had hidden him in the last stall and talked aloud to no one in particular.

“What does she expect? A boy of nearly ten years ignored and starved for affection has to keep himself busy. I blame the Arlessa, not the boy!”

Dennet peered over the stable wall. “You’ve got a good heart, boy. She just can’t see it. The Arlessa thinks you are Eamon’s son – which you’re not. Any fool can see that. You’re a threat, that’s what it is, plain and simple. You could sneeze and she’d complain. Setting you to work in a stable, you’ve no mind for it, no trainin’. I thank the Maker you weren’t injured. It was she who insisted you prepare her horse, not me. Not me, son. I wouldn’t let my own take out that beast of a mare. I told the Arl that myself.”

“Thank you.” Alistair said softly. “It doesn’t matter. I think the Arl is going to send me away.” Alistair sat in the piles of hay; his legs were crossed as he turned his mother’s amulet over and over in his hands. “I wanted to make her happy, but instead I only made it worse.”

Dennet sighed and watched Alistair play with a necklace in his hands. “Would it be all right if I had a look?”

Alistair shrugged and stood up to hand over his mother’s amulet. “It was my mother’s. She worked here or for the Arl before I was born. She died right after.“

Dennet looked at the piece. This wasn’t a serving girl’s trinket. That was for sure. It wasn’t from Ferelden either. The craftwork gave it away. It could be a copy, possibly. But Dennet’s fingers inspected the silver chain. A very small neck wore this chain. You could see the bend in the links showed the wear.

Dennet returned the piece. “Here you are Alistair. Let me ask you a question. Did you stay at the Arl’s estate when he was at the castle?” Dennet asked. There had been some chatter in the guard ranks over the years about the boy meeting Prince Cailan on more than one occasion.

Alistair dug at the dirt with a stick. “I only went one time. I met the Prince. He was nice. I got to see his room and he asked me to come back again. I haven’t yet. Maybe I can go there?”

Dennet shook his head. “I don’t know son. Not my decision.” _Sweet Maker, that’s why the boy is here, isn’t it?  He’s not the Arl’s son, but he’s still with family._ “Listen to me. I’m going back in there to talk to the Arl.  You can’t ride a horse well, I can fix that. Stay here.”  Dennet handed Alistair the amulet. “Keep that safe. “

Dennet knew he could ask for a favor from the Arl. He’d served well and never took anything more than was offered. 

“Master Dennet, good evening. I am looking for Alistair.” Arl Eamon had come in search of the boy.

“My lord, I would like to discuss Alistair’s living arrangements. I would like to train him properly, with your permission. He could stay on with me and my wife and learn skills that could be helpful.”

Eamon was yet again touched at the loyalty of those around Alistair. Ten years old and he has earned more respect than men twice his age. _This is for the best. Perhaps if I continue to repeat my own lie enough I will believe it._

Arl Eamon put his hand on Dennet’s shoulder. “You’re one of many who have made similar offers. I am keeping with his father’s wishes. I can assure you, Alistair will receive proper training and be cared for as well.”

Dennet spoke into the stalls. “Come on out, Alistair. The Arl is here to collect you.”

Alistair did not look at Arl Eamon. He quickly put his mother’s amulet around his neck and stood quietly. “I am sorry. I only did as I was told. The Arlessa’s horse was too much for me. It’s my fault.” Alistair said.

“Begging your pardon my lord, but that just isn’t true. It wasn’t the young man’s fault!” Dennet tried to explain.

“Please, be calm Master Dennet. I know exactly what happened. Alistair, I am not angry with you. I would like to speak with you inside.”

Arl Eamon held out his arm for Alistair. He place his arm around his shoulder and gave him a light squeeze. “Everything will be as it should be, my boy.”

Eamon could not send Alistair to the Wardens. Maric had not insisted the boy be given to them, only as a babe was it mentioned. Eamon would take Alistair to the Chantry. He would need to tell the Revered Mother of Alistair’s lineage, only to be certain that he not be allowed to wander or leave. A Theirin could be a Templar and serve the Chantry and Thedas; and the training he would receive would help Alistair to learn discipline. Eamon would still fulfill his promise to protect the Theirin bloodline.

Eamon invited Alistair into his office and closed the door. “Alistair. Please sit. Do not worry, as I said before I am not angry, you were not to blame.”

“Then why are you sending me away?” Alistair asked. “I’ll be better, I promise. I can learn how to be a stable boy from Master Dennet! He started young here, I can too.”

“Absolutely not. You are not a stable boy, Alistair. I should never have let you leave the castle. I regret that decision.” _I could let the boy stay with Master Dennet. However, if Maric were to find out I used his son in Redcliffe’s stables, he would be furious._  

“You will leave for Bournshire monastery and follow the path of the Templars. I believe you will do well, my boy.”

“What about my father? Does he know where I am? Couldn’t I be sent to him?” Alistair asked. He angrily wiped away tears and sniffled several times.

Eamon sighed and closed his eyes. “He knows, but it is not possible. Alistair, about your father . . . you met him and your half-brother. It’s not possible for you to join them.  The monastery is the best place for you now.”

“Cailan. So who am I?” Alistair asked. “A stable boy with a king for a father?”

Eamon shook his head. “No, you are not a stable boy. You are a Theirin. I will see you protected and safe. The monastery will do that for you.”

“So my mother leaves me. My father doesn’t want me and now you don’t want me. Am I so bad? Why don’t I get a home? It’s not fair! It’s not fair!” Alistair tore off his mother’s amulet. He no longer cared if he cried. Tears fell on dirt streaked cheeks as yelled. “You told me this was from my mother because she loved me! No one does. You lied to me. You lied to me!” Alistair threw the amulet against the stone walls and did not react as it broke from the impact. He pulled the door open and ran out the main gate.

Eamon fell in his chair. His own heart shattered at Alistair’s misery as Eamon’s tears fell on his desk. _Pull yourself together. Do not turn the staff against the Arlessa they will blame her._ Eamon wrestled with his emotions until he was able to push them aside.  He stood and looked at the pieces of Alistair’s amulet and scoured every inch of floor until all the pieces were accounted for and placed in a small box.

He would have Alistair taken in the morning along with a letter to the Revered Mother. He would need to let Maric know where Alistair would be as well.

___

Maric crumpled the letter from Eamon and threw it in the fire. “Bring Cailan to me immediately.” Maric needed to tell Cailan about Alistair before everything changed.

Maric sat back in a chair and waited. _My son._ He often wondered who Alistair would be when he was grown. Maric hoped he would be there for Cailan, as a friend and adviser. A Templar was a noble enough title for a Theirin, although Alistair was probably better suited to be a Warden.

Cailan was fifteen years old. Maric suspected Cailan knew that Alistair was related by blood, but the boy never questioned him. A knock at the door announced Cailan’s arrival.  “Father, you asked for me?”

“Sit. I need to talk with you. Do you remember Alistair? You met him –“

“Father, please. Alistair is my brother, I had figured that out quite some time ago. What is it?”

Maric stared into the fire. Cailan knew this was becoming more and more common place. Something was eating at his father and with each passing year it grew worse. “I want you to swear to me you will look after him. Make sure he is well, that he has what he needs. You’ll know when the time is right to bring him home. Will you do that?”

Cailan did not hesitate. “Of course I will, but why not now? Where is he?”

Maric continued. “It is not time, that’s why.” Maric stood and walked towards the fireplace and leaned on the mantle. “He is at the monastery at Bournshire, the hope is that he will become a Templar. You will check on him and remind the Revered Mother of the reach of the Theirin blood and of its gratitude.”

“Yes, father.” Cailan waited for several minutes. When Maric did not speak further he stood to leave.

“One final request. Find Warden Duncan. I believe he may be in the Anderfels if he has left Denerim. Send only a few men. Deliver the information of Alistair’s new home. I believe Duncan may have other plans for Alistair.” Maric returned to his chair. “Cailan. I am sorry it could not be different. One day you will understand why the right decision is often overlooked for an easier solution.”

“Yes, father.” Cailan left his father sitting and closed the door. He did not see the wet streaks run down his father’s face as he left.


	10. Alistair and the Very Serious Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rainy days are never quite as productive as one hopes. If you are four and a half years old, a rainy day is a tragedy. Alistair gains a new friend, but his fears force him to find help in the ranks of the Knights of Redcliffe

Alistair and the Very Serious Question

 

Rainy days are never quite as productive as one hopes. If you are four and a half years old, a rainy day is a tragedy. Alistair, stuck inside because of another rainy day in Redcliffe, was not only bored but extremely bored. The foul weather changed his usual playful mood to match the depressing weather. Cook noticed first. Alistair ate his breakfast in silence which almost never happens.

“Alistair, would you like to help me today? The Arl requested the oat and honey cookies you both like. I could use a helper today after the midday meal. Would you like to help me?” Alistair sighed. “I guess so.”

She tried to talk to him about his plans for the morning but he shrugged at her questions and just stared at his plate. She promised herself to check on him after all the morning meals were finished.

This was the fourth day of rain and while most of Redcliffe rejoiced, little Alistair did not. He trudged around the halls sticking close to the walls as he walked, not quite answering those who greeted him and returned to his room.

It was Frederic the Steward who brought the news to Arl Eamon. “My lord, the boy is noticeably sad today and not himself. Cook has plans for him to help with cookies this afternoon. I must say we’re all a little concerned. Would you be able to talk with him, just for a short while?”

The Arl sat back in his chair. “I think I may have an idea. I was saving it, but now would be an excellent time. I will simply find something else for the later date.” The Arl did have a surprise for Alistair’s fifth year, but he would be able to procure a replacement gift.  In his armoire a small package waited for its new owner. Crossing the room he opened the armoire and retrieved the gift.  He smiled to himself as he covered it in a cloth. “Let me see to the boy. Perhaps this might change his mood.”

Alistair stared at the golem doll in his hands. “I know. There’s nothing to do. There’s a beast outside but we can’t go. The rain will melt you. I’m sorry.”

The Arl stood in the doorway and listened. So clever. Loves his stories. The Arl knocked on the door and spoke softly. “Your golem is sad today?” He asked.

The boy sat up. “I guess so. It’s raining, he can’t go outside when it rains.” Alistair sighed dramatically.

The Arl nodded. “I heard, he would melt. That would be most . . . unfortunate.”

Alistair frowned and looked at his doll. “Yes. Unfortunate.” The Arl hid a smile at Alistair’s use of his words.

“Alistair, I may have a solution for your friend’s problem today.” He produced the covered item and held it out. “If I entrust him to you, I would like a promise that you will not allow him to take over Redcliffe. This is very important Alistair.”

The boy’s eyes widened at the Arl’s request. “What _is_ he?”

The Arl stepped closer. “Would you like to take a peek?”

Alistair lifted the cloth and looked. “It’s a . . . a . . . it’s a dragon! A real dragon!”

In truth it was a toy. One of the knights brought it back from Denerim for Alistair.

Eamon handed the dragon to Alistair gathered the doll and looked at it. Twice the size of his Golem doll, scraps of leather dyed a reddish brown sewn together to make the dragon’s hide. Wings stood out on either side frozen in flight gave way to padded torso large enough to swallow a cow whole. Its body continued to its end in an immense tail perfect for the destruction of trees and castles.

Alistair studied the dragon and looked up at the Arl. “He’s perfect. Is this for me?”

The Arl tousled his hair. “It is indeed. I want your promise Alistair. You will promise me to keep your dragon from harming the people and this castle. Do you agree?”

“I agree.” Alistair said.

“Then I shall leave you to it, my boy.”

____________________________________

Alistair sat down to play with his new dragon and as his dragon was about to swoop down on the golem, a terrible thought froze his motion. “What if the golem can’t beat the dragon? Then there is no one to protect Redcliffe! I have to know what to do.”

He gathered his dragon in one hand and the golem in the other. Everyone knows you must keep a firm grip on a dragon. Alistair stopped in the kitchen first.

“Master Alistair, I see you have a new friend.” Cook said.

Alistair looked at the dragon and frowned. “Yes, but the Arl asked me to keep the dragon from the people here. What if my Golem can’t defeat the dragon?”

She watched the boy. His face so serious, she tried to help. “Alistair, I would see if any of the knights are still in the dining hall. They would know best. Perhaps a knight has a way to help?”

Alistair looked at the dragon again and set off in search of the Redcliffe knights.  As he walked, Alistair stared at one hand and then the other. He wanted to be sure the dragon could lose to the golem.

Ser Varrell knew Alistair well. He watched the boy examine the toys in his hands again and again as he stood in the entryway to the dining hall. The pained look on Alistair’s face forced him to move closer. “Something troubles you, young squire?”

Alistair looked up into the face of Ser Varrell. He’d always been kind to the boy, having children of his own. “Yes, Ser Varrell. I have a question.”

Ser Varrell sat down on one of the benches. “A very serious question by the look you wear. What troubles you?”

Alistair carefully recounted the Arl’s words and warnings to keep the dragon under control. “What if my golem can’t beat the dragon? What if my dragon hurts the people in Redcliffe? I don’t want to hurt anyone.” Ser Varrell could see the tears pool in Alistair’s eyes.

 

Ser Varrell knew how serious Alistair took his play. Varrell and the others once gave him a demonstration on how his Golem could block a sword.

_On sunny days, Alistair could be found outside. He sat in the grass watching the knights spar. Ser Varrell excused himself upon seeing the boy smiling as he watched. “Alistair! It is always agreeable to see you smiling so early in the morning. To what do we owe the pleasure of your company this fine day?_

_“Good morning Ser Varrell! I thought it would be a good idea for my friend here to learn how to block a  sword. It might save his life one day.” Alistair lifted his hand to show his golem to Ser Varrell._

_Ser Varrell smiled.  “You are an excellent leader, my friend! It is always important to make sure your companions are trained and able to protect themselves. Perhaps your friend would care to see a small demonstration?”_

_Alistair nodded. “Yes, please! “ He jumped to his feet and started towards the sparring area._

_“Just a moment young squire. I will find the best place for you to watch and be safe.” Ser Varrell returned to the others and after a brief discussion, Alistair was given a place to sit nearby._

_Alistair watched and listened as the knights gave his golem instructions. After an hour of instruction, Alistair stood and thanked the knights._

_“Where are you off to Alistair?” One of the knights asked._

_“I have to go. We have a castle to take!” Alistair left them chuckling and shaking their heads in amusement as the young boy ran off to play._

Ser Varrell knew he needed a solution. “Alistair, wait here. Let me speak with the others. I may have a solution to help your golem beat the dragon.” Alistair wiped his tears and sat down to wait.

A short time passed and Ser Varrell returned. “Alistair, the knights of Redcliffe have decided to make your golem a knight. This special gift will allow him to defeat any foe you set before him. It means that you will have to treat your golem well. Do not allow him to be left on the floor, be sure that he is respected and given a proper place to sleep. Will you accept those few rules?” Ser Varrell continued. “I am afraid you will not be able to watch what happens, as you are not a knight of Redcliffe. If you will wait here, my young friend.”

Alistair nodded. “Will it hurt?”

Ser Varrell laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Not at all. He’ll come back stronger and with special abilities you will have to discover on your own.”

Alistair’s eyes widened. “What will he be able to do?”

Ser Varrell winked. “You’ll see!” He held out his hand for the golem toy and moved back to the knights.

Alistair’s mind raced. _What if he can make stones rain down? Or –or fireballs fall from the sky? What if a single punch can freeze his enemies?_ He looked at the dragon and laughed. “You’re in trouble now, dragon.”

The knight’s heard Alistair’s laughter and turned to smile at the boy. Ser Varrell returned with the golem doll. “Alistair, may I present Ser Golem of Redcliffe. Here is your knight, Alistair. Care for him well.”

Alistair accepted the doll and stared at him. “Will he be able to take on the dragon?”

Ser Varrell turned to his fellows. “Knights of Redcliffe! Will Ser Golem prevail over the dragon this day?”

The knights stomped and hit their fists against the table as they shouted.  “Yes!”

Alistair smiled and quickly ran off to play. He did not hear the chuckling and discussion that followed his departure.

Back safely in his room, Alistair continued the battle he had stopped earlier.

The following day, the sun stopped hiding and heralded a beautiful morning. Alistair sat outside in the courtyard watching the knights practice. Ser Varrell waited until a break was called and went to visit with Alistair. “Alistair! Ser Golem! How are we this fine morning? Where is the dragon?

Alistair laughed. “Squished. Ser Golem threw an island on top of him. He’s in the infirmary for a few days. We’ll play again when he heals.”

Ser Varrell laughed loudly, the boy had a gift for stories. “Excellent! Well done, Ser Golem!  Will you be watching us today?”

The boy nodded.  “We’ll watch for a little while. Then Ser Golem has a castle full of bears he wants to clean out. Bears can be nasty business, but I think Ser Golem will be fine.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by art http://sumomosketches.tumblr.com/post/132185504978/for-cosmicalarune-alistair-playing-with-a-golem


	11. Redcliffe Castle Surprise: A Toddler's Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little Alistair wakes early one morning and decides its time to have some fun in Castle Redcliffe. Where is he hiding and who will he surprise first?
> 
> This is part of the Alistair Telephone Game "Surprise" prompt

Life and working at Redcliffe Castle according to most who did was pleasant. The Arl was gentle, respectful and always grateful for the assistance and attention he received from those around him.

When a baby arrived in the arms of a Grey Warden, the rumors in the village spread. They spoke of the babe being the son of the Arl, but the people who worked for him, didn’t believe it. They knew Arl Eamon adored the infant and provided much to give the little boy a home, but no one who worked inside the castle would ever mistake Alistair for Eamon’s son.  Teagan perhaps, but there were secret whispers about Alistair’s sudden appearance, the Warden’s involvement and that news that the Warden had traveled from Denerim. None would ever dare speak against the Guerrin family, which now sheltered one very precocious little boy.

In the early morning hours, the sounds and smells that wafted from the kitchen brought Castle Redcliffe from its slumber including its youngest resident.

Cook heard the slapping of tiny hands on stone and smiled as she continued preparing the morning meal. Out of the corner of her eye, a mess of pudgy fingers gripped the table as Alistair pulled himself up. The boy could walk just fine, but he never walked anywhere. He ran. To be more precise he attempted to run– and would fall. Alistair had not quite managed keeping his balance when he ran, it appeared that his top and bottom halves could not keep up with each other, the top often lagging so far behind he would fall. Unlike many children his age, he never cried about falling down; he’d laugh and start over. Several of the sentries had suggested to the maids to sew padding into the knees of the little one’s trousers to at least lessen the blow.  Instead, when Alistair really needed to get somewhere, he crawled. 

Cook held in a laugh as the tuft of red hair crested the edge of the table.

“Good morning, little master. How did we escape today?” Alistair’s uncanny ability to leave his room without assistance had become quite the mystery. Somehow this small child could climb from his bed and get through the door by himself. The doors were heavy. No child of fourteen months could open and move these doors without some assistance; so the Arl had requested that all doors be closed to prevent what was affectionately known as an “Alistair Hunt”. This consisted of nearly the entire castle turning over every last bag and barrel to find the missing boy.

Cook looked to her helpers. “Ladies, we have an early guest, would one of you get a plate and help Alistair eat?” One of the two pulled two chairs over and waited. “Now, young master, are you hungry? We have eggs this morning for you. ” Cook’s helpers winked at each other as they were well aware of the exchange that was about to take place.  It happened every morning. Alistair was content to eat whatever was put in front of him in the afternoon and evening, but the morning meal he would not budge.

Alistair made a face and stuck out his tongue. “Pleh. Cheese.”

Cook shook her head. “Eggs, Alistair, eggs, bread and milk.”

Alistair shook his head. “Cheese, cheese, cheese.” The kitchen girl sitting next to Alistair held her laughter.

Cook put down the apples she was peeling and knelt down next to him. “Alistair. We do every morning. Eggs. Eeh-egs!”

Alistair stared back at Cook and smiled. “Chee-eese.” He mimicked her drawn out speech perfectly.

She put her head down in defeat. “Fine but this will be my way. Cheeky little boy, aren’t you?”

Alistair nodded. “Yes.”  He smiled again.

Cook laughed. Secretly, she thought she’d trick him this time into eating something other than bread and cheese. Taking the soft bread he liked, Cook put eggs on his bread and a soft cheese atop the eggs. She put the plate down in front of Alistair. “Now, I want you to eat everything that is on the bread, all right?

“Yes.” He nodded.

 _He’s up to something. Never gives in that quickly._ Cook was interrupted as the first wave of sentries came in. Just as she turned around, Alistair pulled off the cheese and dumped the eggs onto the plate. He dropped the cheese back onto the bread and started to eat.

When Cook turned around and watched as Alistair tried to cover the eggs on the plate she tried not to laugh _. Sweet Maker, that boy_. “Where are the eggs, Alistair?” He pointed to the plate.   “Yes, I see them on the plate. Why didn’t you eat them? ” Alistair shrugged.

The Arl stood watching the exchange. “Might I take it that Alistair did not appreciate your fine cooking this morning?”

“It’s not a problem, my lord, I worry he won’t grow without proper meals. Boys need . . . where did he go?”

Alistair’s chair was empty. Cook looked under the tables. He wasn’t there.  She sent the ladies into the larder and within moments they returned shaking their heads.  “I’m sorry, my lord, perhaps he’s just outside in the hall?”

Eamon gently reassured Cook. “Do not worry. I should have been more attentive, I have yet to learn how he leaves his room without help. Thank you for seeing to his meal this morning.”

Eamon stood in the hall outside the kitchen. He knew all too well what to listen for when looking for Alistair; a few clomping foot falls, then the slap of hands on stone following by Alistair’s infectious giggle. Eamon listened in the hall for any sounds; he took his time and walked with care. Alistair loved to hide and then pop up to surprise whoever was too close. Alistair unfortunately would give away his hiding spot by giggling; but Eamon was touched at how so many in the castle would play Alistair’s games regardless of their duties.

The truth was much simpler. Alistair was a delight. His playfulness touched even the highly disciplined knights of Redcliffe who often joined in the Alistair Hunt when one was called. Eamon recalled one occasion where Alistair engaged a visiting Templar in conversation; of course it was only the Templar who talked at length. Alistair current vocabulary consisted of a handful of words: yes and no, up and down, cheese and eat, hi and hey. Somehow the two spoke for over an hour. Alistair never ceased to amaze Eamon with his ability to charm anyone he met.

He turned down the hall as one of the castle guards waved his hand down low. Alistair was hiding around the next corner.

The guard had the perfect vantage point. Alistair stood in front of him, hands covering his mouth to hide his laugh. The guard spoke in a loud voice. “I’m sorry my lord, I do not know where master Alistair has gone.”

Alistair giggled. Eamon heard it plainly. He took a few more steps and the guard held up his hand.

Alistair caught the gesture and stared back at the guard frowning.

The guard had never seen Alistair frown before. _I’ve been caught._ He made the mistake of taking a single step forward and before Eamon could reach him, Alistair ran down the hallway laughing. “I’m sorry, my lord, he saw my hand move. The boy has quite a frown when he’s not pleased.”

Eamon patted the guard on the shoulder. ”I believe your transgression has been forgotten.” Both men laughed as Alistair’s squeals of laughter echoed in the halls. “I think Alistair has decided I need to do a bit of walking this morning.”

“No, my lord, let me. It’s my fault he ran off.”  The guard said.

“No, it is quite all right. Thank you for trying to help.” Eamon smiled and continued in the direction of Alistair’s escape and then decided to let him have his fun. 

Alistair had abandoned trying to run and returned to crawling down the hall. He never looked up to watch where he was going, but he was able to avoid running into walls and furniture.  Alistair stopped crawling and sat down. He listened for the Arl’s footsteps and when he heard nothing headed in his direction, Alistair returned to crawling. Except this time, he did hit something.

Alistair looked up and found a wall of silver feet and legs. He continued to look upwards he realized a knight blocked his path. He sat back on his legs and followed the silver armor up to a smiling face.  “Hi!” Alistair said.

“Hello, young squire. Might I ask if you are lost?” The knight asked.

“No.” Alistair shook his head.

“I see, perhaps you forgot the way to the Arl’s study?”

Alistair laughed. “No.” He pulled a small finger to his lips and made a hushed noise.

“A –ha!  So you are hiding from the Arl are you?” The knight bent to one knee. “Shall I secret you away to hide in the Arl’s study? You might surprise him there.”

“Yes!” Alistair nodded.

Ser Varrell had three children of his own and took an interest in the small child whenever he was in residence. He’d never seen a child as happy and at peace as young Alistair always seemed to be.  “So young squire, do we walk or will you ride?” Ser Varrell and the other knights often allowed Alistair to ride on their shoulders. The boy always enjoyed it. “Now, you remember when I say ‘duck’ you hold on tight and bend down right?”

“Yes!” Alistair replied and with one swift motion, Ser Varrell placed Alistair atop his shoulders.  Alistair laughed but held onto the knight’s armor.

“Excellent. Then I shall take you to the Arl’s study, young squire. Let us be off before we are missed.” The knight carried Alistair back towards the Arl’s study, just before the door leading to the entry hall Alistair yawned.  “A full morning already, young squire?”

Ser Varrell lifted Alistair from his shoulders to his arms about halfway between where he found Alistair and the Arl’s study. The knight spoke again in the hall outside the room. “Now young squire, it is time-“ The knight realized that in the short time he held Alistair in his arms the child had fallen asleep. He spoke softly. “All right, little one. Rest well.”

Ser Varrell approached the study door mindful of the package he carried. Alistair grew heavier in his arms and he knew the boy would sleep for at least a short while. The Arl sat as his desk reviewing papers and talking with his steward. The sight of the knight standing at the door halted the conversation.

Eamon noted Alistair sleeping in the knight’s arms. “Thank you Ser Varrell for finding him.”

The knight attempted to hand the sleeping bundle to the Arl, but Alistair’s eyes opened.

“No.” The little boy said, softly looking to the knight to let him sleep.

“I must return to the others, young squire. Will you stay with the Arl? I promise to I will speak with you again soon.”

Alistair reached for the Arl who gathered the small boy into his arms.  “You wish to stay with me?” Alistair nodded.

“All right dear boy.” He carried Alistair to his chair and looked to his steward.  “Tea and a blanket perhaps?” The steward inclined his head slightly and left.

The knight followed but turned back to face the Arl. “He wanted to surprise you, my lord.”

“Thank you, Ser Varrell.” Eamon relaxed into his chair as the knight departed.

“Alistair, my sweet boy, you never have to try to surprise me. You do so every day.” Eamon kissed the top of his head.

When the steward arrived with the tea and a blanket, he found both the Arl and the boy asleep in Eamon’s chair. The steward smiled, covered them both and left, closing the door behind him.

 

 


	12. Alistair's new suit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Redcliffe Castle prepares for its famous feast day during Satinalia. A dilemma of colors, a special gift and the search for the perfect sweet all for the love of a little boy name Alistair

Alistair’s New Suit

Satinalia at Redcliffe Castle was not to be missed. Cook and her helpers would bake spiced cookies and sweet cakes in all shapes and sizes. The smells clung to the air of the halls for days leading to the huge feast. The Knights brought dried fruits and nuts and delicacies of all kinds for the ladies to create their amazing treats and many a visitor could be found, nose in the air to capture the scents of pumpkin pies, drunken cakes and sugared cookies spiced and sprinkled with care.

The night before the festivities were scheduled, Cook worked on a special dessert. There was one resident of the castle who wasn’t thrilled with sweets. A spiced cookie now and then was half-eaten and discarded on a table or in a vase along the halls. Cook was determined to find the perfect treat for this discerning resident – a toddler by the name of Alistair.

She’d scoured her mother’s scribbled notes and talked with everyone in the village searching for a perfect gift for the little boy. He kept her company most mornings, making her laugh and helping in his own way. This meant him sneaking handfuls of flour and drawing with his wet fingers. Alistair added the word ‘yuck’ to his limited vocabulary and a few others in the past months.

Cook discovered the recipe in a dream. She swore to any who would listen that Andraste herself watched over the boy and this was her divine gift to the child. A gift of inspiration.

While Cook tinkered and tested, Alistair fidgeted as he was forced to try on a new suit of clothes.

“No. Red!” Alistair pouted. “No blue. Red.”

Alistair did not like the blue suit of clothes he was trying on in his room. Arl Eamon covered his eyes. “Alistair, the red suit is not for guests. It’s for sleeping, my boy. You will wear the red clothes to bed tomorrow.” 

One seamstress had made Alistair two new suits, one in blue for the feast day and one in red, but the red suit was a sleeping set. The problem, Alistair wanted to wear the red.  The fabric was warm and soft and cut into a fluffy jacket and pants. Eamon knew that no one at the feast would know, but the young lady put so much time and effort into both sets of clothing, the Arl had to be sure Alistair appeared in the proper attire.

Eamon could see the clothing fit the boy well and hoped the desire to wear the red suit would lessen the following day. The battle lost for now, both sets were put aside and Alistair was dressed in his usual play clothes and sent off to wander the castle.

As the evening approached, Alistair slept under the worktable in the kitchen. Cook had tried so many variations of her idea that even the Knights of Redcliffe, usually good at polishing off everything in sight, complained of stuffed bellies and the desire for long naps. Cook would not be deterred. She baked well into the night. No one heard her shout long after the midnight hour had passed, she’d found the perfect treat for her favorite resident.

Little Alistair woke just before the sunrise. He had a plan, but first he needed to open the door. This had long been a mystery in the castle, how did a boy of almost two years open a heavy door without help?

Alistair stood up in his room and listened. He needed to be sure no one was in the hall. He heard no sounds, no footsteps and no talking. The little boy pushed the chair from its spot against the wall over to the door, leaving just enough space for himself between the chair and the door. He listened again and found all was quiet. Alistair climbed to the seat and stood. All he had to do now was jump and grab the handle. Alistair discovered this by accident but had been using this trick to escape from his room every morning. The boy listened one final time before jumping down and grabbing frantically and the handle. He giggled as the telltale click of the pin signaled his freedom. Some mornings it took several tries to get the door to open, but not today.

His first mission complete, Alistair pushed the chair back to its resting place and peeked carefully around the door. All was quiet. Alistair moved back into his room and opened the door to the armoire where his clothes rested. He pulled out the blue suit and took it with him into the hall.

Alistair was eighteen months old, terribly clever and undeniably adorable. He could charm anyone with a few soft words, a smile and with his infectious giggling, even the hardest of hearts could not help but crack a smile when Alistair laughed. But today, Alistair needed to hide the blue suit.

He tried the large vase near his room but the hole was too small. The chest further down the hall was locked. Alistair had to find a place soon before the castle woke and saw him wandering the halls. His options were few. If he hid the suit in his room, the Arl could find it. Where would the Arl not look for Alistair’s clothes?

The little boy giggled as a thought popped into his head. He continued to creep around the halls, down through the main hall and found his way to Arl’s study. Alistair was sure the Arl would never look for clothes in this room. The door was left slightly open and Alistair crept inside the study. What Alistair did not realize was Eamon had seen Alistair enter the study with the clothes in his fist and stood just outside the door of his study watching every move the boy made.

Alistair looked under the desk. Then he tried to open the chest and found it locked. He pushed the chair over to the bookcase and stood on the seat. The Arl caught his gasp as Alistair jumped and opened the tall armoire on the way down to the floor. _So that’s how the boy gets out of his room. Clever._ He smiled as Alistair shoved the blue suit into the armoire and slammed the door closed. Eamon almost gave himself away as he laughed when Alistair shushed the door for being too loud.

He moved into hall across from his study. Eamon wasn’t angry, there was no reason to be. Unfortunately, Redcliffe’s Steward had been searching for the Arl and called out to him as Alistair emerged. Alistair knew he was caught.

Eamon watched as Alistair’s eyes grew wide and quickly pooled with tears. Eamon hurried across the hall and scooped the boy into his arms. “No blue. Please. No blue.” Alistair’s tears fell from his eyes only to pool again and fall in large drops. The child looked at Eamon as tear drops fell again and again. Alistair’s small lips quivered. The boy spoke again. “Please.”

The Arl tried to smile to hold back his own tears. “All right, hush now. No blue suit, I promise. You can wear the red. Hush. Today is a happy day. No tears, my boy.” The Arl carried Alistair into his study and pulled open a drawer in the desk. “We give gifts to those who are special to us, Alistair. This is for you.”

Eamon sat Alistair atop his desk and laid a cloth wrapped item in Alistair’s hands. Eamon slowly pulled the corner of the fabric away and smiled as Alistair face stretched into a wide grin.

A golem doll stared back as his new master. The doll was bigger than Alistair’s two hands together and soft to the touch. Sewn from pieces of fabric to look like stones, the golem’s eyes made from knotted yarn. Through his tears, Alistair laughed. He looked up at the Arl.

“Yes, Alistair, that is for you. It’s a golem.” This was Alistair’s first toy.  Eamon had picked it up in Denerim earlier in the year for Alistair and planned to give it to the boy later that evening. This seemed to be a better time to share something special with Alistair.

“All right, my boy. Tonight you will wear your special red suit. Would you like to stay here or go back to room and play?”

Alistair laid down on his stomach and played with his new toy. Eamon shook his head and laughed. Tears forgotten, the two spent the day together. One lost in play and the other in the affairs of politics and business.

The time for the feast approached as the guests arrived near sundown. Alistair had been carried away and dressed by one servant. Alistair, dressed and delivered to the dining hall, sat with the Knights of Redcliffe. The men were used to the small boy and Alistair shared a great fascination for many of them as well. He would shout along with them and pound an empty mug as they did when something was good. Alistair ate, laughed and played along as the men enjoyed their meal.

Cook was ready to unveil her new creation. It would be customary for the Arl to approve the new item, but in this case, all eyes turned to Alistair as a small sweet bread was brought to the table before him.

He smiled at Cook as she put it in front of him. “My sweet boy, this is for you. It’s your favorite.” Alistair sniffed the round roll as laughter rolled in around the tables. He stuck a small finger into the center and found it warm. He lifted the white center to his mouth and tasted it. The room watched as a small boy grinned from ear to ear.

“It’s CHEESE!” Alistair cried out.

“CHEESE!” The Knights yelled in return.

Cook beamed and kissed the top of Alistair’s head and returned to the kitchen.

Cook sat down at her work table and let the tears flow. Her helpers knew not to disturb her. She was happy, not sad. She’d worked so long to find a way to give him something of herself and she’d done it. She found the perfect sweet for the little boy who touched her heart and made each day a little sweeter.


	13. First Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little Alistair and his griffon Concord are separated. Whatever is a Grey Warden to do?

First Flight

  
“For the Grey Wardens!” Alistair’s war cry sounded through the clouds, his magnificent mount diving down to knock the dragon aside.

Alistair shouted as the dragon turned away from the village and flew away towards the mountains. “You’ll have to face us again foul beast! Know that Redcliffe is protected!”

Alistair patted his mount and directed the beast to return to the castle. “Time to go home, Concord!”

“Alistair?” A woman’s voice called to him. “Alistair! Get out of the cellar right now!” Cook called to him again.

The young boy sighed as he climbed off the barrel. He patted the side of the overturned vessel and rolled his eyes. “Sorry, Concord. We’ll get him next time.”

“Coming!” Alistair yelled up the stairs. He’d return later to continue his adventure. Alistair trudged up the stairs dreaming up his next adventure.

The next few days Alistair had to stay out of the cellar and he complained in the kitchen as he ate his breakfast. “But wha’if Concor’ is lonely?” He asked mouth full of food.

Cook scoffed. “Eat first, talk later. I’m sure your pet barrel is fine, Alistair. If the Arlessa finds out you are messing about down in the cellar she’ll throw quite the fit!”

Once finished, he put his elbows on the table and leaned into his hands with a heavy sigh. “He’s not a pet barrel, his name is Concord and he is my very own Grey Warden griffon. What if he’s hungry? What if he’s scared stuck there alone? It’s not fair.”

Cook smiled as the boy lamented the troubles of a barrel stuck in the cellar. “Would a warm cheese and egg pie later make Concord happy?” Alistair loved Cook’s pies, she had a heavy hand when it came to Alistair’s favorite food. “Why don’t you see if the knights are practicing their whatever it is they do and I’ll ask how much longer the men expect to be working on this inventory, would that be acceptable, young man?”

Alistair loved to sit outside and watch the knights, but he pretended to think about it, scrunching up his face, raising his eyebrows to appear to be deep in thought. When Cook finally laughed and told him to get out and play he grinned and took off down the halls; he was careful to stop at each intersection to peer around in case the Arlessa was nearby.

Alistair neared the main entrance when he heard the Arlessa talking with Arl Eamon. Alistair watched the door of the Arl’s office and saw the Steward leave quietly.

The tall man spotted Alistair’s small frame and tuft of red hair. Raising his hand to stop the young boy’s advance the Steward grabbed the door handle and shut the study door. He motioned to Alistair to join him and the young boy ran as fast as he could behind the Steward.

The steward pushed Alistair towards the front door and the two sentries whispered to the boy to hurry. Alistair was safely outside just as the Arlessa left Eamon’s study.

“Another successful escape, young squire?” One of the knights asked. The boy smiled and jumped down each stair to the laughter of several of the knights as they teased each other about adding Alistair’s stair jumping to their morning training regimen.

Alistair almost fell over from laughing at the thought of the Arl walking out in the morning sun to the crash and clang of his respected knights of Redcliffe attempting to jump down the stairs in full armor.

Alistair sat on the grassy incline to watch the knights train. Ser Varrell, one of Alistair’s favorite knights sat down next to him. “How is that griffon of yours young squire?”

Alistair pulled his legs up and hugged his knees. “Concord is stuck in the cellar.”

  
Ser Varrel nodded. “Good strong Ferelden name, Concord. But I think you are mistaken, for I saw your magnificent beast soaring overhead about an hour ago, no doubt he needed to stretch his wings.”

Alistair giggled. Ser Varrell always played along with his games and Alistair liked that the knight never told him he was wrong or bad for making up stories about adventures. He shielded his eyes and looked up into the sky. “All I see is the clouds, Ser Varrell.”

The knight smiled. “Are you sure? I would guess if you looked up in the sky and thought about it, Concord might just surprise you.” Ser Varrell stood and shouted to the others. “The griffon flies over head! What say you knights of Redcliffe?”

The knights raised their weapons and shouted in unison. Ser Varrell smiled down at Alistair. “We knights say it is true, young squire, search the skies.”

Alistair leaned back on the grass and watched the clouds march across the sky, slow and steady. As the morning wore on Alistair could swear he caught a glimpse of Concord flying in and out of the clouds overhead waiting for his Grey Warden to join him.

Alistair’s grin spread across his face as he thought of the missions they would lead and beasts they could slay together. He wondered if the griffon missed him as well and the cry of a large bird somewhere up in the skies told Alistair they’d be together again soon. 


	14. Little Alistair and the Siege of Redcliffe

_Don’t move Alistair, you are stone – don’t even breathe._ He held his breath as the soldiers moved past him. Alistair’s breathing quickened, the Arl and Arlessa were in Denerim with Teagan. Alistair found himself alone and Redcliffe under siege.

 _If I can get to the armory, I can protect the others._   He thought. He wondered how the castle guards had been overpowered. Many of them his friends. Alistair shook his head and hoped none were badly injured. He gathered his courage and made for the kitchen to check on the ladies and Cook.

As Alistair rounded the corner, he noted the kitchen door wide open and he could not decide if the open door was a good sign or not. He listened for any sign of the intruding forces and dashed into the kitchen closing the door behind him.

“Alistair!” Cook jumped as the door closed. “What is happening?”

He raised a finger to his lips and hushed her. “The castle has been taken and I’ve come to protect you.”

Cook look down at Alistair’s serious expression. “Where’s your other shoe?”

“What? Shoes? We’re under attack and you want to know about shoes?” Alistair asked.

“Young man, do not sass me, where is your other shoe?” Cook put her hands on her hips. “I’ll deal with pirates, undead, and uh- “

One of the kitchen helpers smiled. “Rampaging Mabari hordes?”

Cook nodded. “Right, those and castle sieges but just because the Arl isn’t here is no excuse for improper manners.” She pointed towards the door. “Go find your shoe and then you can save the castle.”

Alistair scratched his nose. “Fine, I’ll find my shoe.” Alistair trudged out the door and down the hall.

Cook called after him. “Don’t you think for a minute I forgot about the pot on your head.”

“It’s a helmet!” Alistair shouted and ran down the hall, right into the Steward. “Oof. Sorry. The helmet is too big.”

The Steward shook his head but smiled, Alistair was on another adventure. “Young Master Alistair, what is today’s adventure so I may let the staff know what to expect.”

He liked this man, always ready to hide him from the Arlessa and allowed Alistair’s games as long as nothing ended up broken. “Redcliffe is under siege.”

“Ah, I see. Do we need prisoners or casualties?” The Steward asked.

Alistair looked up as he thought about his plan. “Not this time, but it was fun when the Ogres were loose the last time.”

The man nodded. “Quite. We’ve built protections to keep the Ogres out at your insistence Alistair.”

Alistair laughed and covered his face. He had more fun when the adults played along with him.

“Is there anything special you need before you return to your game or will the usual be acceptable?” The usual consisted of a flour sack, a few provisions and a little blind eye to whatever was planned. The Arl wasn’t expected for several days so the danger of discovery did not exist.

Alistair checked his equipment. The sauce pot he borrowed was a little big but a good helmet was important. His blanket served as a cape and even though Alistair didn’t need a cape, he wanted one. The wooden sword and flour sack completed his gear and of course, Ser Golem had to come along for added protection. Alistair, confident he was prepared to return to the battle let the Steward know there was nothing else he required. “Oh wait, I lost my shoe and Cook won’t give me the provisions I need until I have two shoes.”

The Steward thought carefully for a moment. “Where did you see the missing shoe last, Alistair?”

The young boy shook his head, the pot slipping down to cover his eyes. He huffed and tilted it back to its resting place. “If I knew that, it wouldn’t be lost.” Alistair realized he’d been rude. “I’m sorry; I had them both on this morning.  I left my room when the walls were breached.”

“I see,” said the Steward, “how terrible, I shall see to the cleanup. What happened next?” He asked.

“Next. . .”, Alistair scratched his nose, “I hid in the hall as the first wave passed the library.” He counted something on his fingers.

“Are you remembering where the shoe might be?” Alistair looked up at the man and he pointed to the boy’s feet.

“No. It’s somewhere between the library and the kitchen.”  Alistair turned around and froze in various positions. He saw the Steward staring and replied, “I’m remembering what I did, but no shoe.”

Realizing that his morning would be spent watching the boy run through his entire game in the hallway, the Steward grabbed a passing attendant and after a few whispered words escorted Alistair back to the kitchen. “We will have Cook prepare your provisions while the offending shoe is located.”

“What did the shoe do?” Alistair giggled. “Shoe do, that’s funny.” 

Alistair continued to giggle on and off as he followed the Steward into the kitchen. Cook’s keen eyes narrowed as she noticed Alistair’s missing shoe. She moved towards the larder muttering to herself about the boy and his selective hearing. “You can bet if I even whisper about a snack that child would come running from all corners. But tell him to dress like a proper young man and he’s suddenly the village simpleton.”

The steward coughed. Cook’s voice carried from inside the larder. “No. That boy knows how to play each of you. Not me though, I promise you.”

She walked out arms full to see Alistair’s bottom lip push out and droop. His head dropped and his eyes fell to the floor.

She dropped her ingredients on the table and wiped her hands. “Don’t start with me young man.”

Alistair pushed his pout further and then looked up at Cook. “Oh all right. Give me your bag.” He smiled and handed over his empty flour bag. “Far too cheeky for one so young,” she muttered returning to the larder.

One attendant entered the kitchen with Alistair’s shoe as Cook returned. Prepared and ready to defend Redcliffe, Alistair continued his game. “Thank you good people. Ser Golem and I will defend you!”

Alistair left the kitchen and continued out towards the main door. The sentries stopped him before opening the heavy door.

“What say you?” The first guard asked.

“We are defending the castle from invaders!” Alistair offered.

The two guards nodded to one another and the second guard addressed Alistair. “We will guard this door, none shall pass.”

Alistair grinned. “Good!” He took several steps closer to the door and then stopped. He scratched his nose and spoke to the guards. “When it’s time to eat, will you let me back inside? Cook’s making pies.”

The second guard whistled. “I love Cook’s pies too.” The guard bent down and whispered. “When you’re done protecting the castle, just tell the men outside I said the password is  ‘pies’ and they’ll open the door.”

Alistair nodded in agreement. “Good idea! Can’t have enemy soldiers getting to the pies.”

“Right then.” The first guard said. “Time to save Redcliffe, Ser Knight!”

Alistair nodded and readied his toy sword. “I’m ready! For Redcliffe and Cook’s pies!”  Alistair said.

Alistair ran down the steps and into the courtyard. He would defeat the intruders and make it back before dinnertime.

 

 Art by allenvooreef.tumblr.com


	15. Lily's Last Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nine year old Alistair is confronted with loss, his first.

Lost in childhood fantasies of knighted golems, castle raids and his own personal griffin, Alistair sought to escape the harshest realities. At nine years of age, he’d recognized that his play time allowed him to avoid the truth.

The Arlessa despised him, no matter how polite, how helpful or how respectful, she hated him. He knew it in the way she looked at him like she would a rotten piece of fruit or a smelly dried fish. He’d learned how to stick to the shadows in the halls, hide when she approached and avoided the Arlessa whenever her moods carried through the corridors.

Alistair had people who cared for him, indulged his games, but none of that mattered. One of his best friends had fallen ill- a mabari hound named Lily. A favorite of the Arl, Lily had lived with Eamon long before Alistair arrived.

An old lady now, she couldn’t manage to stand without help most days. She’d bark and struggle to move whenever Alistair arrived to sit with her, but the young boy's presence lightened her mood. Alistair's solemn offer to help care for Lily allowed him access daily, but as Lily deteriorated, the horse master and Galen, the pack master thought it best to end the visits.

Galen blocked the path to the cellar kennel. “Not today, I’m afraid,” he said, “let the old girl rest.” 

The bright eagerness in the young boy’s eyes diminished. “But,” he exhaled his shoulders sagging, “I promised.”

Sighing, the pack master shook his head. “This is no place for a boy.”

Alistair’s face darkened; brows knit together as a frown grew. “I’m not a boy, I’m nine and I’ll be ten soon.” He peered around his obstacle to see Lily lying on her side; her loud breathing and whimpers drawing his attention. “Please? Can’t you hear? She’s lonely. Lily needs me.” Leaning with all his might, Alistair tried to move the pack master out of the doorway, but the large man refused to give way until he looked down at the silent tears on Alistair’s cheeks. “Please,” he said, his breath catching through his struggle, “she’s all alone.”

The horse master interrupted; a reassuring hand to Alistair’s shoulder. “The Maker comes for her, and you must let her go.”

“No!” Angry swipes at his face, streaked dirt along the tearful path on his face. “She’s my friend!”

The two men straightened as a quiet cough and few words interrupted their conversation, revealing the Arl’s arrival. “Alistair, will you visit with Lily and me?”

Nodding, Alistair stared up at Arl Eamon as the way opened, the two walking in soft steps toward the ailing dog. Eamon knelt and rested his hand near Lily’s ear, a soft whine acknowledging her master.

“Lily is tired, Alistair, and requires rest. She has guarded my steps since,”  he paused, “well long before you were born. She’s seen so much and lived well.”  The Arl rubbed Lily’s ears in gentle pats, Alistair watching as she closed her eyes. “She remained awake and steadfast when all others left me.” When the Arl stopped and turned to Alistair, Lily nudged her head against his hand again, a simple request for attention. He rested his hand on her flank and Lily slipped into a contented snore while he spoke. “When the Maker comes, she will finally know rest. I must depart for Denerim, but will you guard her final days in my place, dear boy, and keep her warm? Will you accept-for Lily’s sake?”   

Alistair nodded as Eamon stood. “Then sleep well tonight and guard my Lily in the morning.”

l-l-l-l-l

The absence of sunlight the following day set a heavy weight in the young boy’s chest. Alistair finally understood what the Arl had meant. When the Maker came for Lily, she’d be gone forever, and Alistair knew one thing; he wouldn’t let Lily go.  He hurried to the training area in the courtyard, pulling a practice sword and shield from their pegs. Struggling to drag them toward the cellar, he refused all help.

An hour passed as Alistair made his way to the cellar kennels, his face red from exertion and limbs tired from the effort. Dennet and Galen noted the boy’s arms and tried to take the shield and wooden sword away, but Alistair stood firm. “The Arl told me to guard Lily.”

“That’s not what he meant, and you know it. This is no place for your games and stories.”

Sitting before Lily, Alistair pulled the shield in front of them. “He can’t have her. The Maker can take me instead.” 

Dennet sighed. “That’s not. . .fine.” The horsemaster knew arguing with a young boy would solve little. ”Put that shield down and help then.” He handed Alistair a small bowl. “This is for Lily; hold the bowl for her to drink.”

“Why? What’s in it?” He sniffed the water and understood it wasn’t a simple drink. Earthy and pungent, the scent of herbs and something he didn’t know threatened to pull a sneeze.

“It’s to lessen her pain, boy,” Galen’s voice grew sharper with each word. “She suffers, what will you do?”

Turning to face her, Lily tried to lift her head and whined, pulling Alistair into action. He lifted her head with care and held the bowl for her, allowing her to lap at the medicinal waters. He heard Galen ask Dennet if it had been enough, but did not understand the question. 

Placing the bowl beside him, Alistair shifted to rest next to her, his eyes to her petting her head as he told her stories of his adventures. Her eyes grew heavier as he talked, and her breathing slowed, Lily falling asleep at his touch. A sudden long exhale from Lily and her mouth opened, tongue lolling out to the side. 

“Lily?” He said once, giving her a gentle shake. “Lily?” A second time he called, his tears pooling when her chest didn’t rise.  “Lily. . .don’t leave me.” He rested his head on her chest. 

Dennet tried to explain when Alistair’s gentle shakes yielded nothing. “She’s with the Maker, now. Come away, Alistair.”

It took the horsemaster several tries to convince Alistair to leave. When they arrived at the stables, a steady rain fell, darkening the skies and stealing what little warmth had remained at Redcliffe. Wrapped in a heavy blanket, Alistair swore he’d never care for anything or anyone ever again.


	16. The Invisible Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A castle siege, an unwanted bath and Teagan left in charge. When seven year old Alistair disappears, Teagan must find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written Little Alistair in a while, so this may be a little different than the other stories. It's told from Teagan's point of view after a suggestion made in the Facebook group - Caboodling with Alistair.

Redcliffe castle held many wonders for those who visited, but at seven years old, Alistair had created his own world to discover. When the Arlessa would travel to Denerim, little Alistair allowed his world to come alive.

Teagan never minded the small boy’s games, they reminded him of happier times when the Guerrin children were young and free of politics and adult endeavors. His only goal proved simple; keep the boy from chaotic destruction and from harm.

Teagan assumed Eamon’s responsibilities during his absences and would use the first-floor study for expediency. The quiet morning proved a welcome change. Young Alistair had claimed the castle under attack the previous night, sending the staff into an uproar. The boy ran through the halls with a cooking pot perched on his head and a blanket tied around his neck missing a shoe. Had it not been comical and endearing at the same time, Teagan would have run short on patience.

Given the long night, the hope of many rested with the notion that young Alistair might sleep later than normal.  Taking advantage of the silence, Teagan reviewed accounts and tallies for the surrounding farmlands. Numbers and farming data were not high on his list of preferred dealings, but any headway would ease the burden on Eamon.

Despite his attention to the parchments and reports, Teagan didn’t miss the sound of running feet and a flash of a body running past the study door. Moments later, one of the house staff followed the blur. Without investigating, Teagan understood. _Alistair_.

Before he could finish the thought, the study door slammed shut; held by a young boy with reddish brown hair.

“Good morning Alistair. Is Redcliffe under attack?” Teagan did not look up from his work.

“Worse,” Alistair replied.

The boy’s answer intrigued him. Alistair's imagination could often run away into the fantastical, but the boy huffed to catch his breath and his wide eyes and jumpiness filled Teagan with concern. “What could be worse than a castle siege?”

“Bath time,” came the response.

Teagan understood. Alistair must have fallen asleep the previous night without a bath and now he had to follow though with the dreaded ritual.  “I see.” Teagan was no stranger to Alistair’s ability to squirm free of most things he disliked, but in the interest of calm and normalcy, the game had to end.

“A trade then? If you take your bath and dress for a proper visit, I will take you to the village and,” he paused, “to the tavern for a meal.”

The offer had the desired impact. Alistair’s eyes widened, excited at the idea of a trip into the village. “Do I have to take the bath? What if I take the bath later? I’ll just get dirty again in the village.”

Teagan tried not to smile, he used to attempt the very same when he was younger _. I even claimed the bath water would eat my flesh and bone and refuse._  

Despite Alistair’s pleas, Teagan held firm. “If you wish to see the village, you will need to bathe.”

The young boy’s shoulders caved, and he sighed. “Fine,” Alistair said, trudging out of the study and out into the hallway.

After several hours, Teagan realized Alistair had not returned. A cursory search of the castle yielded no sign of the boy. Teagan’s concern grew. Alistair had an uncanny ability to hide; the reasons drew a frown as Teagan considered most of Alistair’s hiding spots.

 _This is no time to think on Isolde_ , he thought. _There is little to be done, other than shield the boy as we are able when the Arlessa is in residence._

Teagan settled on his feet and considered Alistair’s preferred hideaways. Swift steps carried him through the dining hall into the kitchen. While Alistair often rode barrels in the larder cellar, the young boy had abandoned his imaginary griffins for another location. Thanking the cook and her staff for the interruption, the cook suggested checking the mabari pens, knowing young Alistair often bunked with the dogs to aid in their loneliness.

 _Their loneliness,_ Teagan thought _. The boy needs more than a drafty castle and learning the art of staying invisible._

Despite the strong possibility, Alistair had not visited the kennels; the pack master suggested the Knights’ training area in the courtyard, citing the boy often sat for hours watching their training regimen.

As Teagan neared the main door, the two house guards on duty let slip that Alistair had indeed slipped out into the courtyard. They cautioned Teagan to mind the steps. The rains that had kept Alistair confined indoors, had muddied the ground and left the steps rather slick. Venturing outside with care, Teagan descended the staircase into the courtyard.

Surprised to find no sign of Alistair, Teagan enlisted the help of the knights. One knight, Ser Varrel, stepped forward. In a quieted voice, he explained what he knew. “The young squire is hiding from a bath. My own children tend to do the very same.” Teagan nodded in understanding and asked the knight to continue. “Alistair, as you know, has a rather active mind, and it seems he thinks if he remains hidden, those within the castle walls will forget about his bath.”

Teagan followed Ser Varrel toward the well and pointed his head near a rain filled trench. The basin had been removed after it cracked leaving a knee-high hole in the ground. There in the dirt and mud sat Alistair, every inch of him covered in dark mud. His hair, matted and mussed had caked with dirt and from forehead to toe not a speck of clean could be seen.

Heaving a sigh, Teagan couldn’t fathom how to talk the young boy from out of the mud pit. Once more Ser Varrel offered his services. At a loss, Teagan nodded his assent.

“Young squire, you have passed the trial of the mud beast's lair!”  Ser Varrel turned to his snickering fellows. “Three cheers for the young squire!”  As the knights cheered and clapped amid laughter, Teagan stood dumbfounded as Alistair shook the hand of Ser Varrel.  “And in recognition for your bravery, you will join us for our evening meal.”

Even through the muck and filth, Alistair’s glee at the invitation showed.

“But first! A bath, I’m afraid. As all knights must, we do not eat until all the dirt we have gathered is vanquished.”

Alistair nodded, readily agreeing to any and all conditions.

When the last bit of mud had been cleaned from the bath, Alistair joined Redcliffe’s knights. Songs and shouts continued through the evening, until Teagan left the group to their merriment, grateful for the aid of Redcliffe’s learned knights.

**Author's Note:**

> Any new stories will be posted at the end instead of in chronological order.


End file.
